Last
by constant3
Summary: "I could feel myself slipping over the edge and into the abyss of carelessness..." Jack was gone. With nothing left to lose, Alex is sent to the SAS training grounds. There's only one problem: he isn't the same kid he was before.
1. Chapter 1 Where Am I?

**Ok Everyone. I have never written anything similar to this before so I ask your patience. I am an avid fanfiction reader, and have never tried my hand at writing before. I started this mostly because I wanted to see if I could do it, and to improve my writing skills in general. Also, I love Alex Rider fanfiction, and I wanted to try my hand at one of my favorite plots. Be assured that although I am writing about a very common theme, I am planning on making mine as different as possible. I'll also do some things I haven't seen before in other stories. Since I admit that I am much more a reader than a writer I would ask that you not flame my work please. I would however love to get constructive criticism and feedback on how to improve my writing. And you are welcome to request things you would like to see in the story. I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 1 –Where Am I?**

It's never going to end.

_Jack_.

The pain, the struggle, the unsatisfying knowledge that no matter what I do, I can never escape my past.

_Please Jack._

I didn't think I would feel this way. Or, I guess I should say not feel this way. I guess I always knew that this was a possibility. That I would lose everything in a single moment. And yet, I thought I would feel more. It was like the total absence of reality. The space between feelings and thoughts where nothing exists but the beat of your heart and the air going persistently in and out of your lungs even though you can't remember telling your body to breath.

I think I had to remind myself to breath. My brain wasn't working right…not really.

_Come back to me Jack._

Red was all I could see at first. Just that and nothing else: the color red. I was covered in it. All other details were obscured in my sense of utter devastation and disbelief. No thought other than that I couldn't allow myself to think, because thinking would mean accepting in my head and in my heart what my eyes were telling me.

And there she was. Before I even knew what was happening I was cradling her in my arms. I didn't even remember speaking, although later I heard observers relating my quiet pleas to the unfortunate authorities sent to "clean up" the mess.

Someone must have pried me away from her at some point. Someone also must have helped put me in a car because I couldn't remember when I came to not be holding her, or how I came to be sitting where I was. Nothing seemed real.

I think people tried to talk to me. In fact I'm almost sure of it. But it wasn't until I heard "Jack" and "dead" in the same sentence that I came out of my stupor enough to recognize what the person was saying.

"Alex, I'm sorry Jack's dead, I really am. We just… didn't reach you in time." Oh. It was Mrs. Jones, of course. I couldn't even get out of myself enough to feel surprised that I was already at MI6 headquarters. It could have been one minute since _it_ happened or ten hours for all the notice I took.

"Alex, we need to focus on keeping you safe now."

I think she was talking to me again.

"There's nothing you can do for Ms. Starbright now, you have to focus on yourself."

Yep. Definitely talking to me. But her words didn't make any sense. _Focus on myself?_ How could I do that? Jack was…well she wasn't here and if she wasn't here then what I had been denying in my head repeatedly for the last hour must be true and I…I couldn't accept that. The only time I focused on myself was when I was with Jack. It was the only time I could still be me in any sense of the word. The only time I could shed the persona I surrounded myself with in every other aspect of my life. She was the one who reminded me who I really was before everything bad really started. Before my image of Ian was shattered.

_Ian._

Jack had joined him now.

My head continued swimming as the outside world flowed around me. I was like a statue amid the moving throngs that were the living humans. Nothing but a piece of marble often admired, but rarely appreciated.

"ALEX!!!"

"What--" I guess my brain and tongue had decided to work together again.

"Alex, we've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes! Snap out of it!" Her voice had taken on a slightly frantic quality. It was more emotion than I had ever heard from the quiet, peppermint fragranced woman.

"I can hear you." My voice sounded strained and dead even to my own ears. But I could focus more now. I could process where I was and what she meant with more clarity than before.

"Alex, we are sending you to the SAS camp at Brecon Beacons again. It's the only place at the moment where we know you will be safe. We know it's been a while, but the units rotate through there and some of the trainees will still remember you. It's the best place to send you under the circumstances until this matter is resolved."

She had to be joking. As if losing the most important person in my life and the closest thing to family I had wasn't enough? I don't know who was more surprised with my response, her or me.

"Ok." That's it. I am officially crazy. Maybe I would have done almost anything to get out of their presence? Yep, that must be it. Blunt hadn't even bothered to speak since I walked in the door. Anything to get away from the responsible parties to this nightmare.

"Alex, you realize that this arrangement may be quite permanent for awhile? At least until we come up with a more suitable solution?" Ah, there was Blunt adding his two cents. "You know that we now have a lot of…clean up to do, and it would be best if you weren't around for it." In other words, don't expect to get to leave any time soon. That was easy. I had learned early on not to expect anything from my "_owners"_.

"Fine." I guess my one-word answers were all I could get out still.

When I left the office, I didn't look back.

I don't remember the drive to my home, but it didn't really matter. All I could see was red again. I could see it, feel it, smell it.

Blood. Her blood.

I looked around me and realized somehow I had made it up the stairs to my bathroom. I must have subconsciously been heading that direction. Frantically I started scrubbing. My only thought was to get it off of me so I never had to see her blood again.

It just didn't want to come off.

Finally, when I stopped turning the water that sickly pinkish color, I dressed and left the room to gather a few things from home I wanted to take with me before being shipped away unceremoniously…again.

Home.

I guess I really didn't have a home anymore. Sure I had the house, but without Ian and Jack that's all it was…a house.

I wondered if I would ever have another home again. And yet, before the thought had a chance to take root, I resolved that I had to maintain a sense of professional distance from wherever I was headed. For no other reason than to protect myself, I could not allow myself to get attached to anyone or anything again.

Somehow I made it out of the house without breaking down completely.

I don't think I was aware of anything for most of the trip. When I _was_ consciously aware, I spent the travel time putting myself into "mission mode". I could do this. I had done it countless times before. In fact I had perfected the look so much that most of my schoolmates could no longer even look me in the eye without feeling the need to shudder. Some of them actually did.

It was just a matter of putting my feelings aside and focusing on what was to come. No distractions. Nothing to lose. Just singular, raw purpose. My mission now was to pretend that I was stronger than I knew I was. No one would be privy to my personal failure besides myself. From now on, I was completely on my own and therefore, I had nothing to lose.

It was easier to do than ever before. Setting aside my feelings when they were so anguished was a blessed relief.

And I realized that I was dangerous. I could feel myself slipping over the edge and into the abyss of carelessness. I finally had as little to lose as all the criminals I had been taking down for months.

In a way, it was liberating. The Alex I had been before had died. I was the new improved version.

Time had no meaning. Before I knew it, we pulled up to those buildings I remembered so well from the beginning of this miserable nightmare. It all looked exactly as I remembered it.

I took a deep breath, and stealing myself had one last thought before stepping out into what I knew was my new life:

"Beware the last Rider."

**Please review!! Is it worth continuing?**


	2. Chapter 2 Meet your new bunkmates

**Wow! What a great response! Thank you for all the reviews and encouragement! This is the new Chapter 2! For those of you who read the older version of this chapter, sorry but it's gone. I got carried away when I was originally writing it, and accidentally created too many unit members, so I had to re-write the whole thing. I hope you like the changes! For those of you who liked Panda, I may find a way to put him back into the story somehow.**

**I kept these on here just in case some of you hadn't read them yet:**

**Gun toten Girly –**Thank you! Which word? I'd like to change it if I can.

**Caitlyn kitty –**Yes it is the shock, but I think you're right too so I may re-work

that later.

**MistyToryRabiyah –**Eventually, you just have to put yourself out there. Better to post an imperfect story, than no story at all.

**Aquanova –**Yes, Mrs. Jones was a little out of character, but I figured she is more attached to Alex than she wants to admit. She was also feeling guilty about Jack and that came through a little. Plus, Alex's perceptions were not their best at the time, and this is from his messed-up mind.

**Ichihime –**This is set sometime after Crocidile Tears, but that will become clearer later. I still haven't decided who killed Jack yet and that may be a part of it. Alex's education will be addressed in Chapter 3. Thanks for the tips on British/English terminology. I will be making changes and re-posting the chapter, but probably not for a while because I have more to change about it.

**To Everyone Else: Thank You! Your kind reviews inspired me! This morning I had just started Chapter 3, and I am now working on Chapter 5. Hope you enjoy! **

**Chapter 2 –Meet your new bunkmates**

It's funny, how immune I've become to the little things. What I once would have considered a great offense was now a mere fact of little consequence. Like the glare being leveled at me by the Sergeant at this very moment.

He must have thought he was pretty intimidating. After all, with all the toughened warrior men that must have come through this office, I must have looked rather insignificant. Little did he know that his look was a mere butterfly kiss compared to the faces I'd had to stare down. Not to mention that I couldn't help but think this man was rather inconsequential when compared to the men who invoke true horrors.

He wasn't someone to fear.

"I was told you were coming back."

"Yes, Sir." He was looking at me with a fierce look, as if he expected an explanation for the travesty that is my existence. I wasn't intimidated in the slightest though, and I had no intention of compromising any more of myself than was necessary.

"You wouldn't care to explain why I've been ordered to keep you here for an undisclosed amount of time, would you?" Ah. The glare had returned.

"Not really Sir. Just following orders myself." His eyebrow quirked at that, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to believe me.

"You aren't…" He looked a little unsure of himself, before he committed himself to the question he wanted to ask. "You aren't in some kind of…trouble, are you?" Well. This was an interesting change of direction.

"Trouble, Sir?" I knew what he was asking, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. Several people over the last few months had tried to 'help' me out of trouble, and most of them ended up causing me more than I had to begin with. Not to mention most all of them were dead. Best to keep things to myself. It was never worth the risk. Besides, I knew the Sergeant was just fishing. People always wanted to know what my story was, and he was no different.

He stared at my face for a long moment, as if searching for answers there. He would get none. "Yes. With the... higher-ups? Have they—"

"Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, it is unnecessary." I interrupted him before he could finish his thoughts. He didn't look like he believed me, so I decided to give him one last assurance. "There is very little trouble I cannot handle on my own, Sir."

He looked surprised for a moment before once more placing the glare back over his features. I could see he was disappointed I hadn't fallen for his act. "Right. Well, moving on to business. I know you were stationed with K-Unit the last time you were here, but they are out on assignment at the moment so you'll have to side-along with a different group. S-Unit is short a man at the moment and you'll be training with them." Thank goodness for small miracles. I hated to think what it would have been like to face _them_ again.

"I don't want to hear about any slacking on your part _Cub_. I didn't like the idea of children in my camp the last time you were sent here and I like it even less now." He paused to sneer in obvious disappointment at what he saw. "I may have no choice in keeping you here, but I can make your life miserable if you give me a reason." He paused once more to give me a searching look that promised retribution should I protest this stipulation. I think I would have laughed if humor existed to me anymore. Did he really think he was intimidating?

"You will have to undergo several evaluation tests in a weeks time to determine exactly what we are working with. In the meantime I don't want to hear about any trouble from you. Dismissed."

One more "Yes, Sir" and I was out the door walking towards the cabins before he could say another word.

It wasn't that I disliked the Sergeant. In fact I had come to respect him in the brief moments I had seen him. My discomfort stemmed more from the position he held rather than the man himself. People with any type of authority over my life never tended to be my friends when the axe came down, and I'd had a lot of people in authority betray me in the worst of moments.

All too quickly I found myself on the doorstep of S-Unit's cabin. I almost knocked before reminding myself that to be treated as an equal I would have to act like one. I sighed and opened the door.

I was in luck; the place was empty at the moment. I glanced at my watch and realized it was rather early for them to get back from dinner yet. I threw my bag under the only empty bed over in the corner and finally threw myself on the sparse mattress.

It was only then that I realized just how exhausted I was. Not physically really. But it had been less than 24 hours since _it_ happened, and I hadn't slept in all that time.

_Don't think about that_.

_I can't dwell on it. It won't do any good. Losing her once was more than enough._ Although I repeated those sentiments in my head, they could not hold back the tide of my grief.

Just for a moment, I allowed myself to silently and tearlessly mourn for the loss of my friend, sister and mother. I don't think I could have cried even if I wanted to. I didn't have any tears left.

I loved her. If I remember nothing else about her, than that would be enough. My last conscious thought was one word. _Jack._

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"Shut it, Coyote! There's nothing I can do, ok!"

"I just don't get it! We never catch a break. How come we get saddled with a snot-nosed brat who probably can't even _shave _yet, let alone keep up with an SAS unit? I mean, what did we do to deserve this?!"

"Are you a soldier or aren't you? We've been given an order and I plan on following it. To. The. Letter. Got it? This kid is a part of our team now and we're going to do our best to train him, even if it means forcing him to pick up the pace. You understand, soldier?" I glared at Coyote until the younger recruit lowered his eyes in defeat.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. I don't want to hear any more complaints about it. This kid has been here before and probably already knows what to expect. I don't want to make him a liability before we've even met him. The best thing we can do is work with what's been given to us." I looked over the rest of my unit to make sure they complied as well.

If I was honest, I could understand their frustration. The last time that this _Cub_ had been here everyone had thought it was a one-time thing. We also never thought our group would be the 'lucky' ones to get saddled with a teenager. K-Unit had taken a lot of flack for that the first time the teenager had appeared.

But there was nothing to be done about it now. Authority and fate had spoken. Like any good soldier, I would do my duty. Even if that duty included training a teenager. I wondered how old the kid was anyway. 16? 17? If I remembered right, the kid had kept up pretty well when he was here before, and the SAS was no place for wimps. I had seen some of the toughest recruits break down and cry from some of the exercises they were put through. Of course, those men were immediately sent packing.

I didn't know much about this kid yet, but I'd do my best to find out enough to keep the kid in line.

"Come on guys. I'm betting he's already back at the tent. Might as well meet our newest member." Reluctant as they were, the team followed my lead.

We were a tight-knit group, even if recently we had had a stroke of bad luck. We were missing a member after all. Rabbit had taken a nasty fall on one of our long-distance hikes and had to take a few months leave to recover. That, more than anything else made this whole situation more distasteful. It felt like we were replacing a friend with a sorry excuse for a soldier.

We reached our bunker in record time and stepped tentatively over the threshold, only to stop short at the sight that greeted us.

The kid was asleep. Blond hair, lean build, the kid looked like he had dark bags under his eyes too. It was surprising to see just how much of a kid he looked like when sleeping this way, except…_was that a bruise?_

"Should we wake him up,_ Lion_?" Coyote seemed determined to antagonize me any way he could.

"Why would we? Looks like the kid can use some sleep." Boar answered for me. It was rare to hear a serious comment from him. His name may have been Boar, but in reality he was anything but. Boar was outgoing and funny in an easygoing way. He was the oldest in our group at 28, and although he could be menacing out on the field, he often served to relieve whatever tension our unit may be under. We'd been under a lot lately.

We all turned to look at our newest member again. Boar had a point. The kid looked like he'd had a run in with some bad karma. I wonder where that bruise on his face came from.

I guess the question was, what to do now?

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I began to hear whispers beneath the haze of sleep. My foggy brain couldn't grasp what the voices were saying.

They were close too. _Too close! _

I blinked once and then shot quickly out of the bed and crouched defensively against the wall, turning sharply towards the threat, and then...

_Oh_. It took only a short moment for me to wake up enough to realize that the men before me were not attacking; in fact they looked more surprised than aggressive. In one more swoop I remembered where I was, and more importantly, why. Slowly, I lowered my hands from their defensive position.

"Well, that was interesting." One of the men had broken the silence. He looked to be the oldest of the three after a quick evaluation. I scanned the others and with a resigned sigh decided it was in my best interest to try and create better terms with my new unit members than I had with K-Unit.

"Hello." Lame. Why couldn't I just speak like a normal person? I couldn't seem to think clearly. I tried again. "I'm Cub. I've just been assigned to your unit."

"We know who you are." The man who had spoken looked to be the leader of the group if their deferring stances towards him were any indication.

"I'm Lion. This is Coyote and Boar. We heard you were replacing Rabbit." The man hesitated for just a second. "Welcome to the group."

Well this was surprising. This definitely wasn't the greeting I was expecting. "Thank you." I was disgusted to hear how breathless I sounded.

No one seemed to know what to say now that introductions had been made. I took the moment of silence to carefully observe each member and silently evaluate what information I could gleam from what little I saw.

Overall the group looked strong, compatible and much more friendly than K-Unit had been, or at least less hostile. Still, I could tell that Coyote at least did not like my intrusion to their group. It looked like he was the youngest of the three too, maybe 23? 24? Short, but with enough muscle to be intimidating without the extra height. Brown hair, brown eyes. Was that a tattoo on his shoulder? Yep. Coyote, go figure. He looked like he was trying to control his expression and mask the sneer that was threatening to get out.

Boar on the other hand looked like he had a more mature sense of the situation. He seemed cautious, as if he was waiting to see how this situation played out. He looked to be about 27 or 28. Light brown hair, green eyes. Taller than Coyote, but thinner and less intimidating. Still, he looked confident enough to take care of himself.

I turned my attention to the final man, the leader of the unit, Lion. My past experiences with unit leaders had taught me to be cautious. Lion looked...resigned. He was not as expressive as the other two, and yet there was something disconcerting about his expression. _Was that... concern?_ That was unexpected. Dirty blond hair, brown eyes, looked about 25. He was taller than both of his teammates, and carried himself in a confident, commanding way. His eyes were the most interesting feature about him. They pierced into mine with such intensity that they seemed to be searching my soul.

I would need to watch this one. He saw more than the others.

The silence had stretched on for long enough in my opinion, and while I had been observing them, they had all been observing me.

_Like a pet in the zoo._

"Well…I'll be getting back to bed I suppose. Don't want to be late on my first day back." I decided to break the awkward silence and call it a night. I was already disturbed by how much of myself I had let slip in front of these strangers, no need to throw them anymore bones.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Lion looked like he wanted to say something more before he shrugged his shoulders and moved towards his own bunk.

I took one final look at the rest of the team before lying down and turning towards the wall.

That could _not_ happen again. I can't care remember? No more polite greetings and friendly conversation. Tomorrow _will_ be different.

I must really be crazy now, having debates with myself and giving myself motivational, or I guess for me, _de_-motivational speeches. It was going to be a long night.

As I drifted to sleep, I couldn't help but let one last, single tear escape and run down my cheek.

It would be many years before I ever cried again.

**Please tell me what you think! I decided after the responses to stick with one main perspective for now. Thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3 Eyes On Me

**IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE: You may want to go back and re-read chapters 1&2. Chapter 1 only has only minor changes, but I had to completely re-do some of the sections in chapter 2. Some of the characters I created are completely gone, so it might be confusing if you don't read it again. **

**Here it is people, chapter 3! To those of you who reviewed the last chapter, Thank You! To all of the other readers who didn't review, SHAME. Oh well! Lucky for you that I've already started chapter 6 or I wouldn't have posted this just from a lack of review. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3 –Eyes on Me**

"MOVE IT!!!"

Ah, good old morning exercises. The one reason over half of all recruits training here would never make the cut.

"IF I DON'T SEE YOUR SORRY HIDES OUT ON THAT TRACK IN TEN SECONDS, I'LL WORK YOU SO HARD, YOU'LL BE BEGGING ME TO RUN LAPS!!!"

How did drill sergeants even get so loud? Did they have some sort of internal switch inside of them? One side labeled "Normal Human Being" and the other labeled "Crazy, Irrational, Un-Feeling Animal"?

Strangely enough, I couldn't care less. I was enjoying the exercise. Or at least, it wasn't bothering me. I didn't really _enjoy_ things anymore.

I found myself…surprisingly calm this morning. In fact the workout seemed to be doing me good. After all, the more physical pain I felt, the less I could concentrate on my inner turmoil, or the fact that my life was all but over.

Besides, the physical effort was distracting the other recruits from their object of entertainment for the day, namely me.

This morning had been…less than satisfying, and my presence at camp seemed to be causing quite a stir. My unit didn't seem to be helping matters either. From the time we got up until now they seemed just as determined as all the rest to figure out the puzzle that is me.

Breakfast had been an unsavory affair of ignoring all the stares and whispered conversations, as well as dodging any questions I didn't want to answer.

Oddly enough, I couldn't find it in myself to care too much about that either. After all, in my eyes these men were practically babies, who had about as much 'life' experience as preschoolers. Sure, they were tough, but I'd had my fair share of hard-core tragedies and these eyes were a little too innocent. In some ways, I hoped they could stay that way, and be spared the burden of seeing the world for what it really was.

The world isn't a pretty place. It's filled with uncaring, selfish, greedy people who would do anything to get what they want. I would know. I once joined them.

The only redeeming quality the world has to offer is the fact that some lucky people do get to live normal, healthy, happy lives. The fact that those lives were paid for with the sweat, blood and soul of an unwilling teenager made no difference.

So really, morning exercises were nothing more than a pleasant distraction from what was quickly becoming my life.

"Cub! I don't want to see any slacking from you! You know the drill, move it!"

_Gladly_. I forced my feet to move a little faster and actually succeeded in passing some of the larger men. They may have had longer legs, but their weight worked against them and I'd always been quick.

I crossed the finish line with minutes to spare and the sergeant looked at me scathingly as if he resented me for my success.

"Cub, hit the showers and then head back to your tent. You have a tutor waiting for you. Better get to it." I nodded and began heading that direction. _A tutor?_ Well, that was an unexpected, but pleasant surprise. I knew that I couldn't go back to my school after..._don't think about that_...

I re-focused my thoughts. I really did want to finish my education.

_I guess Blunt has a heart after all._

I finished cleaning up quickly and ran back to our tent. Hmm, _he must already be here_. My sixth sense was burning. I seemed hyper aware of everything around me lately. I wasn't sure if it was because of my newfound sense of purpose, or just a culmination of all the experiences I had been through, but either way, I was grateful. That kind of awareness might just save my life.

I took a moment to evaluate what continuing my education here would mean for me.

I was smart. I could admit that to myself. I wasn't being cocky really, because I knew I could and had been very stupid on a number of occasions. Being smart also did not change the reality that I could be killed at any moment. Without any warning at all, my life could be ended regardless of whatever precautions or preparations I made.

It didn't hurt to be smart though, not at all. Being smart had saved my life on more than one occasion.

It was after that whole business with Reverend McCain that I had gotten serious about study. I had been much closer to death than I ever wanted to be again. I realized I could not afford to just let things happen anymore. Therefore, I had devoted myself to what I privately called "spy-study" with more determination than ever. I had even asked Jones for a private tutor to help me in my newfound purpose.

I had come to accept that as much as I resented the position MI6 had placed me in, if not for their manipulations I would be dead several times over. Sayle's virus would have killed me long before I even had a chance to graduate; and if that hadn't killed me than any number of the other plots for world domination or destruction I had uncovered surely would have.

Jack hadn't been too happy with my newfound direction, but whether I liked it or not, the world seemed to need me.

For this reason, I had become more of a nerd than Ian would have thought possible.

Currently, I was fluent in seven different languages, and I was working on three more. I seemed to have a talent for that, and I knew from experience how useful knowing a language could be. My motivation seemed to double the rate at which I soaked a language in. I had a lot to gain from increasing my language base, and a lot to lose by ignoring that possible advantage.

It had taken some time, but I had also caught up in all my course work and had even advanced in my studies beyond my year level. I was hoping to graduate earlier than usual. Jack had been so proud...

Ian had always encouraged getting a good education, but up until the moment I watched McCain burn I had not motivated myself into reaching my full potential. I was too happy being 'normal' to excel beyond my classmates, and too busy with sports to put in the necessary time.

No such barriers existed anymore. I knew that 'normal' no longer existed for me. Denying my abilities was both foolish and pointless.

Besides, if my unit's behavior was anything to go on, no one expected much from me anyway.

So I dutifully accepted more tutelage and satisfied myself with the thought that higher training and education could only help keep me alive.

I wanted to be alive.

I had seen enough death to know that no one is infallible, but that didn't stop me from hoping some day I could really live. Maybe someday once I was too old to be of use to MI6 any longer and I could choose my own path. That thought kept me going.

Max, my tutor, was waiting for me when I stepped into the tent. Strangely enough, I found I was...not un-pleased to see him. Not happy really, it was just nice to see a familiar face in this forsaken place.

Max and I had gotten along from our first meeting. He was an older, but lively agent who used to work in recon during his heyday and had somehow survived for retirement. I think he felt that teaching me was a way for him to relive his glory days and do something real. He encouraged me, but also pushed harder than I'd ever been pushed before. He expected the impossible, and that's usually what he got.

The look he was giving me now suggested that he was saddened by what he saw. Although his words didn't fit his expression.

"Alex. It's good to see you." I gave a greeting nod and took a seat across from him on Boars bed. There were books stacked neatly on mine next to him.

"I was very sorry to hear about your guardian. I know you were close." The mood plummeted. Why did he have to bring that up? He saw my face lose its human-like quality and seemed to get cautious and hesitant.

"Yes" was all I said. I didn't want to talk about it. As far as I was concerned, it was no one's business but my own.

He got the hint and moved on to what he was there for. I sighed and picked up the book he handed me and got ready for a long day.

"Now, as you may remember from our last lesson, Aristotle was a great philosopher who...."

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"What do you think he's really here for?" Coyote asked the question casually as he reached for the salt. I wasn't fooled. I had had Coyote under my command long enough to know he was never casual about anything.

"Who knows? Think he's some sort of juvenile criminal?" Boar seemed to be trying to puzzle it out. As if there had to be some logical explanation for our new situation. I knew better. Life was rarely logical, and with the SAS even less so.

"That makes sense. He looks the type." Coyote was willing to believe anything that cast Cub in the most negative light. I decided to step in and add my two cents.

"I doubt it. I don't know what he's here for, but I don't think he's some ignorant kid. Did you see his reaction when we came in last night? I've never seen that look in the eyes of someone so young before." They seemed to pause at that, both lost in their own observations from last night.

"But doesn't that mean he's in some kind of trouble?" Coyote didn't seem willing to concede his theory. "I mean, you don't get startled like that unless you have a reason to be cautious. Maybe he got into some trouble with the law, and some smart-mouthed judge decided to give him an unusual sentence."

I paused to consider this, but dismissed it quickly. "Cub doesn't seem to fit into that stereotype. A kid in that type of trouble wouldn't give us the time of day, and he certainly wouldn't be putting any effort into training. You saw him out there today. I didn't think it was possible for a kid so young to run that far, that fast. Besides, no judge is going to put the secrets of our country in the hands of some criminal kid just to teach him a lesson. There has to be another explanation."

Even if I didn't want to admit it, I was just as curious as the rest of them. But as the leader of our unit I had to maintain a sense of unity, and I didn't want rumors to split our group prematurely. However, I had to admit that meeting Cub just raised more questions than we had to begin with.

Last night he had been polite and seemed to be just as nervous with the situation as we were, but in the morning he seemed hardened to everything. He didn't speak as all of us got ready and I could have sworn I saw a glint of some interesting scars on his back in addition to a few more bruises like the one on his face. _What had he been up to?_

At breakfast, he had ignored the attention he was drawing as well as the questions shot his way, and calmly finished off his food in record time before leaving the mess hall with a mask of cool indifference on his face. It seemed like he didn't even realize what a stir he was causing.

Cub was quickly becoming a mystery that seemed impossible to unravel.

Before Coyote could inject with his next brilliant theory, the object of our curiosity walked into the mess hall. After grabbing a tray of food, he started heading in our direction.

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Russian. The bane of my existence. I don't want to read another word of Russian again. That was my newest language attempt. I think I was honoring Yassen Gregorovich to be honest. He may have killed Ian (and who knew how many others), but I couldn't help but sympathize with who he was now that I had been to the other side.

Still…Russian. My head hurt just thinking the word.

I was exhausted. Max had been unrelenting in his commitment to getting me back on track, and my energy and patience had been pushed to its limits the last few hours.

I slowly made my way to my unit's table after reluctantly filling my tray with what I'm sure the administration thought was food. I couldn't even spare the energy to be disgusted.

If I had been lucky, I would have had the energy to pay attention to my surroundings at that moment. Unfortunately, my luck wasn't on par today.

Before I could reach the table a hand shot out of nowhere and halted my progress.

_What the--!_

Before my head processed what my body was doing I slammed my tray onto the head of whoever was holding me. I registered a distant yelp, but by body continued its movement and when I blinked I realized I had someone in a full headlock on the ground. Said person was also covered in what used to be my lunch. _Oh great! Fabulous._

As my brain caught up to what the rest of me had done I quickly analyzed the situation.

_How dare he touch me!_ My position in camp was about to be put in a dangerous balance because of this man's stupidity!

Ok, how can I salvage this? I quickly thought through possibilities, but I shot down one resolution after another and it became clear that I had just crossed a line. There was really only one thing left to do.

"It is _not_ a good idea to touch me." My voice was so hard and menacing that I forgot who I was for a moment. "I would suggest you not try that _again_ in the future...if you value your life." The man squirming beneath me gave a solid nod and only then did I allow my body to relax and release him from my grip.

_I knew I was dangerous._

I stood up, but kept my eyes on the ground. _Why does this stuff happen to me?_ I don't want to be this way. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be me. I don't want to see the looks of...what? Awe? Disbelief? Anger? I didn't really know what to expect.

The man I had subdued was slowly standing. He coughed a few times, and I finally forced myself to look at him.

The man was big. Not tall exactly, but he had plenty of muscle and I could tell he could take care of himself. He was probably as surprised as I was. His brown eyes pierced into mine with a million questions, as if he didn't know which one to ask first, or what to think of me.

Come to think of it, I didn't know what to think of myself. Where did that reaction come from? I mean, how could something so minor cause such a drastic reaction?

I don't know how long we stared at each other, but eventually I spared a glance for our surroundings and inwardly groaned. We had drawn a small crowd. I could see my unit heading in our direction, clearly on their way to find out what was going on.

"What was that?!" My focused returned to the man currently covered in food.

"I'll say it again. Don't touch me. Now what was it you wanted?" He seemed even more surprised that I would inquire considering my words to him before. Now that he had the opportunity to speak, he seemed hesitant to do so with so many people listening in.

"I just...I..." he didn't seem to know how to get started.

"Well, when you figure it out, you know where to find me." I determined it was better if I had the last word. Without another glance, I turned and walked out the way I had come.

As soon as I was outside I leaned against the door and took a moment to get my breathing under control.  
_  
This was not good._

**Ok. I know, I know, flames galore. I just could not resist adding a 'fight in the mess hall' scene. What kind of Alex goes back to SAS story would this be without it? I hope it's different enough from others to not annoy people too much. I never thought it was believable to have every single soldier part of the fight, or have everyone freak out too much about it either. These are soldiers; they're bound to get in fights sometime. Besides, I've always wanted one of the fighters to end up covered in food. **** Please Review!!!**


	4. Chapter 4 Unwanted Attention

**Hello Everyone! Thank you for all the kind reviews! I'm glad you liked to changes in chapters 1&2. This is mostly a filler chapter, but don't worry. There's some pretty cool stuff coming. I just had to post this because I've already started Chapter 7, and I'm getting a little behind in posting. Hope you enjoy!**

**EriKaBalDel –**I haven't decided yet if someone will succeed in breaking through Alex's shell. For now, I'm really just making this up as I go, so who knows? It depends on where Alex decides to take me. K-Unit will be coming into the story at some point though, you can count on it.

**Ichihime –**Thank you for the feedback! I know Alex's fighting skills aren't very realistic, but come on. His adventures have never really been realistic. I've decided to work with that and give Alex a little more…power than he has in the books. Don't worry; Alex won't be too sleep deprived. I've slipped a seasonal reference into a later chapter too.

**Arica, Princess of Rivendell –**Thanks for the info on military discipline. I'll keep that in mind for later.

**Ryuusquall –**Thanks for the correction. I'm still working on my 'English to English' translation, if you get my meaning.

**Thank you, thank you to everyone else who reviewed! If I didn't get reviews I don't think I'd keep writing this.**

**Chapter 4 –Unwanted Attention**

"What the...!"

"Did you see...?"

"How did he...?"

"Was that...?"

"What was that?!"

Whispers passed among the small group who had witnessed the exchange between Cub and Seal the second the door closed behind our youngest member. These whispers were being transmitted to some of the surrounding tables as more people wanted to know _why_ Seal was dripping. I was still in too much shock to process what I had just seen.

One moment Cub was walking towards us, and the next he had a man twice his size pinned to the ground. It was over so fast I might have missed it, had I blinked.

I couldn't hear what Cub said to him before he let Seal up; but from the look on his face I got the impression that Seal, as unbelievable as it was, had been _scared_ of Cub, or at least intimidated.

As they had gotten to their feet, more people in the room seemed to come to the realization that something..._weird_ had happened. Through the new quiet descending around that area, we had been able to hear part of their exchange.

"What was that?!" Seal had looked more surprised than angry, even while dripping food onto the floor. "...again. Don't touch me...what…you wanted?" We had been too far away to hear everything, and Cub had not been speaking loudly, but Seal hadn't looked like he knew what to say anyway.

"...when…figure it out, you know...find me." Cub then turned and walked out...just like that.

We had just reached the center of the commotion when Cub disappeared through the door. Seal just stood there, staring at nothing, a bit of oatmeal sliding down his hair and onto his face.

Seal was well known as a calm, but hard man. He wasn't one to get in a fight needlessly, but if provoked, he was unstoppable. He'd won more than his fair share of match-ups at this camp.

So needless to say, his current state was...disturbing. _What could have shaken him up so much?_ I mean besides the bits of food dripping down his face? And how did _Cub_ do that to him? How could someone so little bring down someone like Seal?

Myself, I was trying to process the look Cub had had on his face through the entire exchange. I'd never seen anyone so...emotionless. It was like his face had been carved from stone.

"Seal, what happened?" As Cub's unit leader, I felt it was my duty to get to the heart of this incident, if for no other reason than to protect my unit.

Seal just stood there opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Eventually, he seemed to gain enough composure to speak. " I just…I just grabbed his arm as he walked by is all. I was going to ask him…Anyway, I don't know how it happened. One moment I grabbed him, and the next thing I know…" He looked embarrassed now, and still a little shaken up.

"Go get cleaned up. We'll take care of Cub." Without another word, Seal headed out, opposite of where Cub had left. I was grateful that this had happened with Seal and not another recruit. He was fairly reasonable. I doubted he would pick a fight with Cub later on to get even. Still, how could Cub have thrown him off so much?

_Who was this kid?_

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Although the curious looks were definitely there, my unit did not ask any questions when they got back to the tent, for which I was eternally grateful.

It was already enough that I had had to come to the realization that I was not ok. I mean, I knew I wasn't ok, but that didn't mean I wanted everyone else to know too.

I didn't need a psychiatrist to diagnose me to know that I was cracking. It wasn't surprising considering recent events. In fact I was surprised that I had not had something similar happen sooner. Really, it was only a matter of time before my demons caught up with me.

My quick reactions had always been my saving grace. Now however, they seemed to have a mind of their own. I hated this feeling, this...lack of control. I knew, without a doubt, that if you lose focus for one second in this world, reality will bite you without so much as a 'by your leave'.

The unit found me cross-legged on the floor doing breathing exercises and using relaxation techniques. I had walked away from Malagosto with quite a few advantages, one of which I was practicing now. A large part of our training had consisted of how to push conflicting emotions out, and bring in feelings of calm resolution. Even anger can distract you from a target. Assassins needed to be clear-headed, even through great distractions. It was something we particularly practiced during shifts at the shooting range. Accuracy on a target is directly linked to how controlled you are in your body, and in your mind.

I had no qualms about using what I had learned on that island. After all, what better way to redeem myself than to use what I had been taught for good, instead of for the harm Scorpia had intended. I had been taught a lot too, much more than MI6 was even aware. If Scorpia wasn't a terrorist organization and hadn't tried to kill me, I might have even been grateful for all the things they taught me. I may not be cut out to be an assassin, but knowing how to think like one was particularly useful in my…profession.

So, I used these techniques to my advantage now to accept the fact that I had just drawn unwanted attention, and made a potential enemy without even trying. Slowly, I calmed down and was able to put the whole thing behind me. After all, nothing really mattered did it? People were still dead, I was still a spy, and I was still stuck in this place. No sense kicking a dead horse. Better to confront the issue head-on.

"How is Seal?" I could tell that my sudden willingness to talk surprised them.

"How do you know his name?" Oh. I didn't mean to let that slip. _I'm losing my edge._

I didn't hesitate. "Heard it later on. You going to answer the question?"

"He's fine. A little on edge and quite a bit…dirty, but fine." Lion seemed determined to relieve the tension between his team members. "He's not an easy one to take down."

I could hear the subtle question in his voice. How _did_ I take him down?

They wouldn't have liked the truthful answer. I'd fought bigger, stronger and much more ruthless men before and still ended up the victor. Plus, I'd had surprise on my side. Instead, I satisfied them with a neutral answer. "He just caught me off guard is all."

Their skeptical expressions weren't promising. I couldn't really blame them. That wasn't the typical reaction to someone grabbing you offhand.

"You know, usually that type of behavior would have you receiving punishment duty." I hadn't thought of that, but I guess I wasn't too surprised. Lion looked like he hadn't really wanted to bring it up anyway. "Fighting for any reason other than for training purposes is strictly prohibited."

"If you feel it is necessary, I will willingly accept your decision." It wasn't really that big of a deal, and I _had_ overreacted.

Lion gave me another searching look before he responded. "Since this is your first offense, consider this your first and only warning."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "What's next on the agenda?" I was anxious to move to a different topic.

"We've got a weapons lecture to go to." Sensible Lion. He seemed the most resolved to keeping the peace, even if that meant letting me keep some of my secrets…for now. I could tell the others were still willing to pursue the subject if he let them.

"Right. Let's go." On our way to the lecture tent I maintained my 'stone' face, determined not to let their stares get to me. They probably would have pursued the matter more fervently, if they didn't need to gain my favor as a unit member. Being part of _this_ unit was not only different from K-Unit because of the attitudes. With K-Unit, I was only an add-on, extra weight, unnecessary baggage. In this unit, I made up for a lost member, which meant that they needed my cooperation out on the field. Most SAS missions required an even four members to complete each facet of the task. So in this unit, I was more than just 'extra weight'. These men were forced to trust me, or rely on me at the very least; they had no choice.

The weapons lecture was...well, a weapons lecture. I'd been through many before. It was boring really. There wasn't a single gun on that table I didn't know more about than the man teaching the class. It was difficult to compete with assassin training.

I started practicing those cursed Russian words in my head to pass the time, which is probably why I think I drew so many glares from the instructor. It was obvious that I wasn't paying attention. I really wasn't trying to be disrespectful. It was just impossible to take interest in something I was already well informed in. Besides, I was sorely lacking for time lately. Might as well spend _this_ time doing something useful.

When the man finally finished droning on about the differences in some of the models, it was dinnertime. I hesitated one second, before shrugging and following my unit. I hadn't had lunch after all.

The moment I entered the mess hall the tension in the room seemed to increase. It didn't get quiet, exactly. But I could sense the anxious and curious feelings from those around me. I had taken down one of their own. That was the only reason I was causing this reaction. I wasn't really one of them, and never would be. Plus, even though _I_ no longer felt like one in almost any sense, I was still a _kid_ in their eyes.

I calmly got my dinner and walked briskly after Boar towards our table. As soon as I sat down, most of the recruits turned back to their own meals, and the volume resumed its usual quality.

"Looks like you've drawn some attention." Coyote had a way of stating the obvious and making it sound like an insult.

"I can handle attention. I've handled much worse before." I don't know what made me say that. I guess I just wanted some well-deserved credit. Coyote was also annoying and it was strangely satisfying to shut him up.

"What do you mean?" Lion clearly saw this as an opportunity to get some answers since I was the one who brought it up.

"Nothing much. Just that it's not as if this attention is dangerous, just annoying." I decided to indulge him for now, even if I wouldn't share any details. I had a feeling I would regret that decision. "As soon as the attention turns deadly, then we'll worry."

"You're a strange kid, Cub. How exactly did you come to that…philosophy?" I think Lion genuinely wanted to understand me, or at least, whatever it is that I represented.

"A culmination of risks, deadly situations, and pure instinct." There, that could be applied to any number of situations should any of them want to draw their own conclusions.

"Who are you?" And there it was. I had come to regret my indulgence. It was obvious that Coyote was tired of skimming over the issue and had decided to cut straight to the heart of the matter.

I looked him right in the eye, hoping I could intimidate him away. "Many people have asked me that question; most of them for the wrong reasons, and none of them because they actually deserved to know. The last man who asked me that is dead now. I'm sure you'd rather not join him."

He ignored that final bit and pushed the issue again. "That doesn't answer my question!" He pounded his fist on the table in obvious frustration. _Weak._ These men wore their emotions on their sleeves.

"Yes, it does. You just can't see the answer for what it is."

"What does that mean?"

I sighed. Arguing with foolish men was tiring, and I'd done _more_ than my fair share of _that_ over the past year.

"It means that who I am is none of your concern, and if it were your concern, than you'd know it, probably from the bullets whizzing by your head."

He looked stumped by that, and then resumed a pouting expression. He looked so childish I would have laughed had I been able to. Silence descended, and I finished my meal in record time, ignoring the eyes that watched my every bite.

**And there's chapter 3! I just want to mention that in my story, Alex had a lot more training on Malagosto than is mentioned in the book. Alex will also be a little more 'super', but I'm going to try and keep him fairly realistic. I'll try not to overdo it; I just like it when his character screams 'power!' **

**Please Review! You have no idea how much your feedback helps me in my writing. A lot of my ideas come from your comments.**


	5. Chapter 5 Calculations

**Here you are! Chapter 5! This chapter literally sprouted out of nowhere. I intended to write about something else entirely, and instead, this just spilled out. I liked it though, so hopefully you will too.**

**Gun Toten Girly –**Thank you! I do appreciate the CC, and it really does help and change my writing, where changes are necessary. Thanks for the offer too, I might take you up on that.

**Canterbury Tails –**I'm going to make myself sound really stupid by asking this, but what does OOC stand for? I've seen other people use that abbreviation too, and I've never been able to figure out what it means. And you're right; I think Alex would be more affected than is shown in the books.

**Ichihime –**Nope, not at all. This story is really writing itself right now. I'm sure I'll have some ideas when I get closer in though…hopefully. I do however know the very last scene of the story already, just not how it fits in yet.

**Mariam C. Garnet –**Thanks for the suggestion. I took you up on that.

**With The What Now –**Since real books generally don't label what pov is being written, neither will I. Sorry! Thanks for the feedback though, because I'm trying to make it easier to know who is talking. I just think there is more suspense when you have to figure it out for yourself. This is all practice after all.

**Aimael –**Your comments surprised me the most. It never occurred to me that someone would take it that way. Thank you though, because I realized that maybe S-Unit _would_ take it that way, and so you are pretty much responsible for part of this next scene.

**To Everyone: Thank you for the reviews! I wish everyone who read this reviewed. I post my responses to reviews on here, because a lot of my answers are ones I think everyone should know. I just want to remind everyone that Alex is not in his right mind right now. If he comes across as too cold or unfeeling, it's all about perception. Sometimes the real Alex slips through though if you're looking for it. It's going to get worse before it gets better.**

**Chapter 5 -Calculations**

I'm not a bad person. Really, I'm not. But still, _I just can't stand that kid. _There's no logical reason for it, no hidden agenda, and no past discrepancy I blame him for. He just...rubs me the wrong way. I can't explain it. That look in his eyes just infuriates me.

I've seen that look before. That look said 'compared with me, you're nothing.' I am SAS, I am definitely _not_ nothing. I'm not as clueless as some people think. I could tell that Cub didn't think of me as much of a threat. This, more than anything else made me despise him, or at least not like him very much. Every teenager in the UK would give their right _arm_ to be part of the SAS. So why was Cub so different? What made him so special that he was absolved from that? Especially when he's the youngest trainee to ever set foot into camp. I had worked hard to make it this far. What made him so special?

That look in his eyes also made me feel guilty for some reason I couldn't explain. _Guilty, of what?_ I just couldn't figure him out. Which is why I was currently flying off the handle over such a small issue. When he was around, I just lost all sense of reason.

"How dare you put my shoes outside?!" I sounded ridiculous even to myself.

"As I told you before, Coyote, they were covered in mud. We were told that if our tent wasn't spotless by 0900 hours, we'd be given the night shift on guard duty. You weren't here, and we did what we had to do." He said it in such a cool, collected manner that my temper boiled. He didn't even rise to the challenge of a simple shouting match. It was infuriating.

"You could have just cleaned them off and then put them back inside! You never know what could be crawling around out there!" Ok. That was probably asking too much. I was going past ridiculous and onto full-blown crazy. But it didn't make a difference. I just couldn't get along with this kid.

"Coyote," He sounded like he was attempting to placate a child. _Insufferable brat_. "No spiders could have gotten into your shoes. I stuffed socks into them first for that very reason." I saw Lion suddenly jerk in the corner of my eye. "Besides, there are probably just as many spiders inside the tent as there are outside." _Inside_ the tent?! I panicked. I hated spiders. I loathed their very existence. If I had my way, the lot of them would be exterminated from off the face of the earth.

"Just...just keep your hands off my stuff from now on! Got it?" I was done. I really was trying to rein my crazy in, it just kept crawling its way back out.

"Come on, Coyote, lay off the kid already. It's not that big of a deal. Besides, you should be grateful that you have such a nice little housewife picking up after you, being as messy as you usually are." Boar was smiling in a teasing manner as he said it. Cub glared. It was more emotion than he usually showed.

"Shove off Boar." I was in no mood for his attempts to lighten the mood.

"I am _no one's_ housewife." Well, seems someone's hit a nerve.

"Cub, I've been wondering about something." As usual, Lion stepped in before things got out of hand.

"Yeah?" Cub seemed willing to do anything to change the subject.

Lion hesitated a second before asking his question. "What did you mean when you said that the last man who asked you who you are, is dead?" Cub's face resumed his poker face in a flash. "You weren't actually…threatening us were you?" Lion had gotten a little hesitant now, more cautious. I was curious about that myself. At the time I'd been too focused on getting what I wanted from him to think too much about it.

"Of course not!" Cub seemed almost shocked by the very suggestion. _Almost_. He didn't show much. "I didn't kill him." I didn't think he would continue, but surprisingly, he did. "It's just not…safe for any of you to know too much about me. You don't realize…I have a lot of enemies who would do anything to get to me… _Anything._"

"Where did you pick up enemies like that?" I'd forgotten my anger in favor of getting some answers. Cub didn't look like he wanted to answer my question though. He hesitated for a long moment, but eventually dropped his eyes to the ground and spoke.

"Listen carefully, and trust me when I say this, because I'll only say it once." He looked back up at us. "You _honestly_ don't want to know. You all fight to serve this country. You give up almost everything to fight for people you've never even met. Someday, you might even give up your life to this cause. It is better for all of you to keep the allusion that the cause you are fighting for is a just and fair one." _What on earth did that mean?_ Cub paused again before saying one last thing."Trust me…you don't want my demons haunting you." He turned back to his bed and I could tell he wouldn't be saying anything more tonight.

I didn't know what to say to that anyway, and it didn't seem like the others did either. We descended into a tense silence. That look in his eyes though…it was making me angry again for some reason I couldn't explain.

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After having that last conversation with my unit members, they seemed to lay off the questions about me for a time. The last few days had passed quickly. Training exercises were as grueling as ever, classes continued to be boring, orbiting around my unit was awkward as usual, and I was still an anomaly.

The only good thing that the passage of time brought was that the attention faded from me, at least outside of my own unit. People seemed to have gotten over the incident in the mess hall and moved on to more important matters, such as surviving to be SAS, which was no easy feat.

My unit seemed to accept my presence and I appreciated the sentiment, even if I knew it was mostly just an attempt to gain more information about me. Coyote still seemed up-in-arms about my being there, but it didn't bother me too much. Wolf had been unequivocally worse.

At the moment however, I was faced with an internal debate. How much did I want these people to know about me? If I was being honest? Nothing. If I was smart? Well, that was harder to determine.

My sense of self-preservation pushed me to not let any of my more _questionable_ skills come to the forefront. However, I didn't know how long I was going to be here. Forever is a long time to hold back.

Another factor to consider was that I could not improve in any of those necessary areas if I did not push my limits, and I needed to improve. I had gotten off by the skin of my teeth so often that I had already forgotten the number of times I had been faced with death and somehow walked away. Improving myself was a necessity.

In the end however, those reasons weren't nearly as important as one hard, cold truth. _I didn't really care._

I was already in about as much danger as any one person could be. I had a continuously growing list of enemies that all ranked in multiple countries lists of top five most dangerous criminals, my life was a constant cycle of dodging death on all sides, and to top it all off, any leverage someone might have held over me was now six feet under.

That reason alone was enough to make the decision fairly easy. For the moment I determined to do whatever I felt like. It wasn't as if MI6 didn't already know most of what I could do, and at this point my...extracurricular skills made little difference in their desire to manipulate me to their wishes. They didn't have much of a hold on me anyway.

Besides, I was _bored_. You wouldn't think that was possible given where I was, but I didn't seem to take to this isolation thing too well. I felt like I needed a good mystery to solve, or some poor criminal to take down. Something exciting. Something to distract me from...everything. Make me forget...

It isn't easy to forget here. Everything around me was hardcore. Surviving in difficult conditions, being physically fit to the extreme, knowing how to kill...

I knew that lesson all too well. It had been easier when the 'bad guys' were more obvious. Now? Those lines were blurred. The 'bad guys' and the 'good guys' _both_ sunk to the levels of manipulation, extortion, blackmail, murder, anything to get what they wanted. The only difference between them was that the 'light' side claimed to do all those things to save lives. Fighting fire with fire was sometimes the only option.

I'm not sure I could believe that was reason enough to do what they did. I was a victim of that sentiment. Even so, I knew enough about the criminal world to know that _someone_ had to pay the price to take them down. If that someone had to be me, then I could accept that, as long as it was on my own terms.

All that aside. I was still _bored._ I think I had been in such dangerous conditions so many times lately that I was not used to peace. I was addicted to the adrenalin rush that followed fighting a very large, angry animal, or leading a high-speed chase, or even just confronting the one responsible for both. I would find none of those things here.

Well, I could settle for second best: confusing the heck out of everyone around me. Who knows? It might even be fun.

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I had always considered myself a reasonable man. Strong-willed? Yes. Arrogant? Maybe. Intimidating? Definitely. But still reasonable. So when my superiors asked me to take a teenager into my camp to train him for who knows what purpose, I dutifully accepted the orders, thinking there had to be some higher purpose in it.

The first time around there were several possibilities for why said teenager was put in my care: rich parents who wanted to teach their son a lesson, testing a new program for starting recruitment earlier in life, or even training the kid as a cover story for an agent. Any one of these possibilities, while not pleasant, could have made sense on some level.

Now, none of it made sense. What was this kid doing back here? Furthermore, why did he look like he'd been in some sort of disagreement with someone's fists? The most disconcerting thing about him was his eyes though. I already established my overall intimidating nature, so why was it that my projection of disdain had not even phased the kid? Instead of backing down to my force of will, I found myself feeling...lacking in some way. As if he had some quality I didn't possess, or saw something that was beyond my grasp.

Since the moment I had taken command of the SAS training center, I had been a satisfied man. Satisfied in myself and satisfied my accomplishments. Ready to serve my country in a leadership capacity the best I knew how. And now? One teenager comes along, and my whole balance is thrown off. Why did I get the feeling that I was partially responsible for that look in his eyes?

I determined that if I was to ever understand this kid, I might have to get a little...underhanded. So I'd called in his unit leader to discuss the conundrum currently parading through my camp.

At the moment, Lion was standing at attention before my desk. Wearing the blank mask of a well-trained soldier.

"At ease, soldier." He relaxed and looked me in the eye.

"I'm sure you have some idea as to why I've called you here." Lion had always been a sharp one. No sense beating around the bush.

"Cub, sir?" He ended it as a question, but we both knew there was no doubt.

"Yes. I've received some strange reports about him this last week. I was hoping you could share your observations about the boy." If this were to work, I would need to be forward.

"Honestly, sir?" He paused, and his shoulders descended as he sighed. "I've been watching him constantly since day one, and I'm no closer to figuring him out than anyone else." He took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"He's quiet, polite, intelligent, seems bored in all of our classes, hard working, and he's stronger than his size indicates he should be. He's unbelievable in fieldwork and exercises. He has a knack for knowing what the enemy will do before they do it, and he's brilliant at strategy. He seems to be a loner, doesn't like socializing, and I've never seem him laugh even once." He paused again and descended into thought once more before he continued.

"He doesn't respond to hostility, in fact it seems to amuse him when anyone tries to get a rise out of him, as if the person is foolish for thinking they could intimidate him. He does not like to be touched. He keeps his distance from everyone, and..." He stopped suddenly as if he didn't want to finish that sentence.

"Yes?" This might be important.

"He...knows things, things he shouldn't know."

_Interesting._ "Things? What kind of things?"

"He knows the names of recruits he's never met before. He knew that Coyote is afraid of spiders and that Boar has a peanut allergy. He...knows my real name."

I couldn't help the disbelieving expression that passed over my face. He jumped in to back up his claim.

"It slipped out once when we were on a night exercise. I think he was hoping I hadn't noticed because he tried to pass it off as something else, but I know what I heard."

"You're sure about this? Maybe he heard it from another recruit--"

"I'm sure, sir. My own unit doesn't even know my real name, no one does. He could not have heard it from anyone out there."

Well, this certainly changed things. I now had another piece of the puzzle to add to this riddle.

"One more thing, sir… In spite of the fact that he isn't very open or forthcoming, I can't help but respect him. He has this way of making people feel small around him. Not because he is looking down, but because his personality just demands respect. He hasn't said much, but I know that he has enemies, and I know he's had experiences in life I've never had. You can see it in his eyes. He's like an adult in a kid's body. On one hand, I feel inclined to protect him, and on the other…I get the feeling he's really protecting me. He'll make a good leader someday, sir."

It looked like Cub had left quite the impression. This was getting more complicated by the minute.

"Very well. You may go. Please inform me of any new...developments." He gave a firm nod and turned to leave.

"And Lion?" He turned back and gave me an inquiring look. "Don't let on to Cub that you are...observing him, if at all possible."

"Yes, sir."

As the door closed behind him I leaned back and looked at the ceiling. _This may be harder than I thought._

The last person who had caused this much of a stir in my camp was an MI6 agent, who was here for only one month. That hadn't ended well for anyone.

To this day I couldn't think of him without cringing. I didn't want to think that Cub was involved in anything of _that_ nature.

Still, I couldn't deny that Cub had a lot in common with _Ian Rider._

**And there you have it, another mystery. Hope you liked it! One more thing: I've had a lot of people really wanting K-Unit and Ben to come into the story, and a lot of people wanting to keep them out of it. Anyone want to give me their reasons? I'm pretty sure I already know what I'm going to do, but I'd love to get your feedback. Also, let me know what you think about the different perspectives. As you can see, I really do incorporate the feedback I get from you. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6 Evaluations

**Hello Everyone! Here is the next chapter.**

**Ichihime -**I totally messed up on the whole 'tent' thing. At the time it wasn't important enough to look up. I've corrected it now, but I probably won't re-post the earlier chapters right away.

**Purple Gal -**Thank you so much. I was feeling really down about that. It's good to know not everyone hated that part. I really appreciate the support.

**Sabsi 13 -**I'm assuming you mean Lion...? :)

**ZeZe123 -**You win the awesome award for reviewing every chapter on the same day. Thanks!

**With The What Now -**You bring up an excellent case. I didn't mean to say that no books label pov's, just that for me personally, I want to avoid it. I also didn't think people would want me doing separate chapters/posts each time the perspectives change (they would be really short). So I hope you'll bear with me as I learn to get better at it. :)

**Gun toten Girly -**Don't worry, if I have K-Unit come in I'll try to make it a little more believable than some other fanfics. Ben too. Thanks for your assessment and just fyi -Rabbit is a lot like everyone's really nice, fun-loving younger brother. He's also a trouble-maker. Who knows? He might come in later.

**Canterbury Tails -**Glad someone appreciates the quick updates for what they are. For me, writing comes in waves, so if I'm really inspired, you'll get updates faster; if not, you may have to wait a bit.

**ScrapHappy -**Oh, just wait. ;)

**FCgrl -**I'm glad you like the characters. Thanks for the vote of confidence, it is much appreciated!

**Aquanova -**see my response to ScrapHappy.

**prone2dementia -**Thanks! I appreciate the advice, and someday, I probably will go back and revise.

**Aimeal -**My response is too long to post here, so I sent you a message through the reviews 

**TO EVERYONE: Thank you for reviewing!!! I will probably need to start responding to reviews right from the review board soon, because I have too much to say in response now. Especially this week, you have no idea how much your positive encouragement kept this story going. It was in danger of being completely abandoned for a while there. That said, I hope you enjoy this nice, long chapter, in spite of its many imperfections. :) You knew it was coming...**

**Chapter 6 -Evaluations**

_How do I get myself into these situations?_

Never mind, I know how. My stupid, unending, mind-of-its-own, just-won't-shut-up curiosity, that's how! Even so, this had to be one of the stupidest things I'd ever done. _What was I thinking?_

Ok. I guess it wasn't that bad. After all, even if I got caught, they probably wouldn't kill me..._right?_ All things considered, it could be much worse. I could be stuck in someone else's cupboard, instead of the Sergeant's. You know, some mastermind criminal with an agenda to end the world, as we know it. Well, at least _that_ is something I'm used to.

It had all started with the name of one little computer file. "Rider," was all it was labeled. I'd broken into the computer system the first night in camp, of course. You know, just to get a feel for who was in camp right now, and what to expect from my unit members...that kind of thing.

I had woken up in the middle of the night my first night here and couldn't get back to sleep, so I had decided to do something productive until I needed to get up. It was just something to do at the time, and it was better than letting my thoughts take me where they kept straying. Plus, I wanted to make sure they had no files on me.

MI6 didn't know it, but Scorpia had taught me the basics in hacking computer systems, and Smithers had taken up where they had left off. Smithers probably knew more about technology than anyone alive. I'd asked him to teach me what he could while on the same trip to ask Jones for a tutor. It had been well worth it.

The security here was dreadfully lacking for a top-secret training camp. It had only taken a few minutes to bypass their security measures and find the information I was looking for. _I'll have to talk to Blunt about that_.

I'd uncovered some interesting things too, once I'd gotten into the system. My unit members were an interesting bunch, and Wolf…well, that one really through me for a loop. _It explained so much_…

Anyway, there it was. Staring me in the face. Just begging to be opened. I hadn't found anything else even remotely linked to me, until that file.

Unfortunately, before I had the chance to look at it, someone else had interrupted my impromptu search; and I had been forced to high tail it out of there before I got caught.

So, I had needed to sneak in again. Unfortunately for me, the Sergeant had decided he didn't need any sleep on this one, particular night and was currently seated at his desk in the chair I had just vacated. _Why did my luck run out at the worst of moments?_

I had just barely escaped being caught by jumping into the tiny cupboard I was currently squashed in._ I'm getting too old for this._ I couldn't help being amused by that. 15, and too old. Who would have thought?

From the tiny crack in the cupboard door, I could just make out the left side of the Sergeant's face. He looked...agitated. Like something was particularly getting to him. He was clacking away at the computer keys in a frustrated manner, and huffing at whatever he was looking at. _That's odd._

Then, for no reason at all, he suddenly banged one fist on the desk in frustration, causing me to startle suddenly and hit my head on the ceiling of the space in the surprise. _Ouch!_ Luckily, any noise I might have made was drowned out by his cursing.

_Wow._ _Never heard that one before._

It took him about another half-hour to finally give up whatever he was doing in frustration; half an hour of absolute, mind-numbing torture. This cupboard was not meant to hold an entire person, even if that person happened to be a very small, teenage boy. I had passed the time trying to guess what he could be searching for. _Great. More mysteries._ Just what I needed.

Eventually, he started gathering his things in preparation to leave. _Finally. Someone does answer prayers. _The moment he left the office and shut the door behind him I was out of that infernal cupboard.

_Never again._ That space was just too small. I stretched my legs and then looked at the door with longing.

_Stupid curiosity._ I stood up and resumed my seat in his vacated chair. I couldn't help it. I just had to know what he had been doing. Not to mention that I still needed to look at that file. Another second and I was clacking away at the keys myself, though much more sedately than the Sergeant.

Past history...recent searches..._Oh._

_Me_. He was searching for me. Well information about me really. He didn't have much to go on by the looks of it. _Young teenage boy, brown hair, brown eyes, from England._.._Really! What did he expect to find with that?_

_And, what is this?_ It looked like the Sergeant had a running list of everything he knew about me. Some of the things listed were ridiculous. _Respected_ by the other recruits? Good leadership qualities? He _had_ to be joking. Where on earth did he get this stuff? I was the _opposite_ of respected. I was the laughingstock of the SAS. I was the joke of the whole camp…right? Besides, a leader? Spies never tended to have that kind of ambition, or want that much attention.

There were a few other items listed I found surprising as well. _It looks like Lion noticed when I let his name slip._ _Shoot. _I was still kicking myself for that one. It looked like Lion was _observing_ me too. _Interesting_. I'd have to think of ways to keep him on his toes. I liked Lion as a general rule, but I didn't want anyone _spying_ on _me_. I was too used to being on the other end. Having it reversed was…unsettling. But I would think about that later.

I decided that the other file was more important than the Sergeants increased interest in me for the moment, and moved on to my original interest. It only took a second to load up.

_Oh my...Ian._

It was Ian's file. From the picture, he looked about 20, young and proud and ready to serve. There was a list of his basic features, and the date of when he was at the camp. Other than that, nothing. No list of services, no names of unit members, nothing that could link him with MI6.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he had come here once, but…I was. It was comforting in a way. It somehow made me feel…closer to him, knowing we had shared the experience.

I looked at his picture and was alarmed to see how innocent he looked in that photo. It was almost disconcerting to see him so...carefree. I guess the recruit in the photo didn't know what tragedies would soon befall him._ This had to be right before mom and dad died...right before he got landed with me._

I wondered if people saw me the same way. Did people look at me now, and compare me to the innocent kid who entered Brecon Beacons for the first time? Probably. _What an unsettling thought. _

This picture was just a little too telling of what life as a spy does to you.

Why was this file on here anyway? It didn't seem to have enough information to be of any use, and MI6 usually kept their agents off the grid, if my lack of a file was any indication. Still, I wasn't just an anomaly in one way. Ian would have been much less noticed at the age he came here. Perhaps MI6 didn't feel it made a difference if they had only this record. I _was_ a little more high profile than Ian, as strange as that may seem. Sitting here wouldn't solve the riddles, however.

I closed the file, and after searching for a little bit longer, determined there wasn't anything else of much interest. I cleared all evidence of my being there, and then snuck out and headed back to the hut. Hopefully my teammates hadn't noticed I was gone...

00000000000

I should have chosen a different night to sneak out.

A yawn escaped me before I could rein it in. _How embarrassing._

Of all the nights to forgo a decent nights sleep, I just had to choose the night before my evaluation testing. Sometimes I began to doubt how smart I really was.

Oh well, nothing to help it now. I re-focused on the number of sit-ups I had reached. Was it 83? 93? Oh, it didn't matter, I'd lost count. Besides, that goon-of-a-drill sergeant was counting them anyway. No need to extend unnecessary energy counting.

I'd been at it all morning. First swimming, then running, then the obstacle course, then push-ups, then pull-ups, and now these blasted sit-ups. I didn't even want to think about what would come next. I couldn't concentrate on that though because I was about to give out. It was only my stubborn nature that had allowed me to hold on _this _far.

I was actually surprising myself. I'd held up pretty well so far. In reality the pain felt...good. It had been awhile since I had felt anything, and so pushing through the pain...well, it was a way for me to feel something again. Not to mention that the twinge in my chest where the bullet wound lay was reminding me of Jack...making me angry, which only made me push harder.

With one final heave I fell back to the ground and panted, trying to catch my breath. The trainer didn't stop me, but looked at his counter. "Not bad, Cub. Take 5 and then we'll head over to the arena."

Too exhausted to respond, I just nodded. I may have liked the pain, but I was no superman._ Why did I have to do this anyway?_ I'd never seen any of the other recruits do one-on-one testing before. Maybe this had something to do with the Sergeant's increased interest in me? If that was the case, I'm not sure what he intended to learn from this. So, I was physically fit, so what? Lot's of teenagers are. Or perhaps he thought this would give him insight into what MI6 could want me for? Oh well, either way it didn't really matter. _My_ bosses _far_ outranked him, and could probably hush up anything he may uncover...I hope.

Besides, that's the beauty of not caring what people think, you don't have to prove anything to anyone.

_Wait! Did he say the arena? Shoot._ I knew of only one reason he would take me there. The arena was a large, outside platform that was often the camps main source of entertainment. We used the arena to train in hand-to-hand combat, or at least, everyone else in camp used it for that. I had never been allowed in the ring before. Something about…being too _young and weak _to be able to hold my own. I hadn't bothered to correct them. I had observed the matches before however, and had a fairly decent knowledge of the fighting styles taught here. The SAS were a force to be reckoned with sure, but they had their weaknesses same as anyone else, and I was an expert at finding weaknesses. Sure, I was up for a fight, but I was actually a little worried of what would come out in a fight with me being… the way I was.

I'm messed up. I know that, and the fact that I know that means that letting me loose in a fight could be very dangerous for whoever was on the other side. I was not trained to just defend. I was not trained to just incapacitate an opponent. Maybe before my life with MI6 had started I had fought that way, but now…I was trained to kill.

My training consisted of knowing every vital part of the human body. Knowing how to exploit every weakness, break any limb. I had been taught hundreds of ways how to end a life, how each form of killing worked, how long it takes for the victim to die…everything. Because that's what it means to be an assassin.

I know myself too. My natural tendency is to do whatever it takes to win, because that's what Ian had taught me. I was not as big or as strong as anyone on this base, but that made little difference. I had been taught to use my small size to my advantage in a fight. I was able to move faster, jump higher, and my opponents always underestimated my general strength. Add to that my extended knowledge of lethal moves, and I was a force to reckoned with, same as the SAS. However, I was not used to fighting in any form other than for my very survival. I'd been doing it for too long.

Unfortunately, all of that was not even my most vital concern. I was on edge. I was practically looking for a fight. Something to stop the pain, the feelings of regret, the endless misery of knowing _she_ was gone forever…and it was my fault.

Putting myself in a fight when I had so much anger to let out was extremely dangerous. But, as in all things in my life, I had little say in the matter. It was finally time to step up to the plate. My only hope was that both my opponent and I would walk away from this…relatively unscathed.

I followed the trainer into the arena to find that my unit was already there. I couldn't help the sigh that slipped out. Well, at least we're keeping it _within the family._ I would just have to hope that the other units were busy elsewhere for the day.

"S-Unit, you know the drill, which one of you wants to help Cub with his hand-to-hand combat testing?" The trainer looked them up and down as if assessing livestock.

"Me." Coyote sounded eager for a change. _No surprises there._

"No! It would be best if he fought someone a little less…biased. I'll fight him. At least _then_ we know he'll live." Lion. _My hero._

"Come on Lion! I won't hurt the boy…much."

"No Coyote! You're not objective enough about this to—"

"I'll fight him." Everyone turned to me in surprise. I think they had forgotten I was even there. They were looking at me as if to see if I was crazy or not. I think I was about to prove them right. "I'll fight him." I repeated, stronger.

Coyote looked at Lion with one eyebrow raised to see if he would concede. Lion didn't take his eyes off of mine. "You're sure about this?"

"Would I have said it if I wasn't?" I held his gaze for another long moment. Finally, he nodded, resigned.

Coyote looked like Christmas had come early. Well, if I was going to hurt someone, I wanted him to at least deserve it. We both moved to the large platform in the center of the area and stood across from one another. I had seen Coyote in combat before. I knew his style, his aggressive nature and his offensive tendencies. Coyote liked to stay on the offensive. He had a 'strike first, ask questions later' kind of attitude when it came to one-on-one fights. His weakness came when he was forced to take the defensive. He usually panicked, and tended to lose his focus. He would also be distracted by his obvious dislike for me, and his need to prove superiority. Suddenly, this seemed totally crazy. His obvious weaknesses made me nervous. _What if I do more damage than I intend to?_

"Do I have to do this?" The trainer gave me a disbelieving look.

"Of course you do. Where do you think you are, some sort of vacation resort? If your worried about getting hurt--"

"That's not it." I interjected. "I just think this is a bad idea. I'm not...trained the same as the SAS are. Coyote could be hurt." There was a second of quiet, and then Coyote burst into laughter. The others looked between him and me as if they weren't sure how to react.

"I never pegged you for a coward!" Coyote sputtered in-between his fits of laughter. "A wimp maybe, but not a coward." _That's it. People could call me stupid, guilty, young, or reckless, but no one _ever_ called me a coward._ I had done more for these people than they knew. I deserved more credit than that. _Ok, just calm down. He isn't really worth the trouble is he…?_ My internal pleadings couldn't stop the adrenaline rush that came with the challenge though. My fingers were almost tingling in anticipation.

"Fine. Have it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you." I wasn't about to let Coyote think _he_ was the reason I didn't want to fight.

I took a deep breath and allowed my center to calm itself, and reach a state of peace and tranquility. There was no avoiding this. It was out of my control.

_Ok, for Coyote's sake, I have to keep myself under the tightest of leashes._ _No permanently harmful moves. Try and remember what fighting in competitions was like as a kid. Specific premeditated movements. _I felt like I was coaching myself for some big event. I needed to calm down. My state of aggressive anger was reaching dangerous levels.

Coyote bowed towards me with a mocking grin. I respectfully echoed the movement in the traditional fashion.

"Ok guys, no permanent damage. I don't want to be carrying Cub out on a stretcher." _Insulting._ Just like everyone else, the trainer did not count me as any kind of threat. Coyote and I both nodded and then turned back towards each other. The trainer blew his whistle. _And so it begins_…

0000000000000

_I can't believe I'm about to watch this_. I can't believe I am standing by and allowing it to happen. I can't believe I'm debating about this with myself when a fight between two unit members under _my_ command is about to commence, one of which has a tendency to be far too aggressive, and the other too small to look even remotely imposing.

_Well, Cub did ask for it._

Will they ever get along? After this? Probably not. I can't say I wasn't eager to see Cub in action, but I knew before Coyote had volunteered that somehow, this was a terrible idea. We knew next to nothing about Cub, and the little we did know only made him more of a mystery. Something told me that Coyote should have been much more cautious than he was at the moment. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. The moment Cub stepped onto the mat, every single expression on his face disappeared. It was…shocking. He hadn't looked that expressive before to begin with, and yet this…well, it was disconcerting to see how easily he put on that blank mask.

"Just one more thing, Coyote." Cub still had that blank look on his face.

"Yeah? What's that?" He was still grinning, the challenge in his voice obvious.

"It's nothing personal." The deadpanned words were...creepy.

"Wha--" Before Coyote could ask what Cub meant an arm shot out of nowhere and fist met flesh. _Coyote is...bleeding!_ His nose was anyway. _Where did that come from?!_

Coyote turned back to Cub with a look of complete shock, before that shock quickly turned into utter loathing. Before anything else could be said, it really began...

I'd seen Coyote in plenty of fights before, but this...this was personal. His movements were forceful, with a power behind them I hadn't seen before. I could tell that he was beyond angry. That first hit had ignited something in him none of us were expecting.

I would have been worried if not for what I saw from Cub. Cub was...I couldn't even describe it to myself. _How is he doing that?_ Cub was moving like some sort of flexible cobra. His movements were fast and precise, each move purposeful. While Coyote obviously had something to prove at this point, Cub on the other hand maintained his mask of cool indifference. Not a single emotion played on his face. His control was...amazing.

The kicks, punches, jabs, uppercuts, all his movements had a serene quality, as if this was something he did all day. His fighting style was...unique. I had never seen a combination of moves executed in this way. It was no wonder Coyote was having a hard time retaliating.

It was...awe inspiring...and bloody. I knew that Coyote was an offensive fighter, and so far into this particular match, Cub had not let him gain the upper-hand.

So far, Cub had not let a single hit break through his defenses.

0000000000000

No one spoke as we started walking to the mess hall for lunch. Not one word. Boar and I were walking in between Coyote and Cub, making sure they both kept their distance from one another. I was mostly only worried about Coyote though. Cub appeared just as cool and collected as he had been before and during the fight. In fact, he was walking slightly ahead of the group, purposely separating himself from the rest of us.

Coyote on the other hand...he looked ready to spit nails. Well, no actually. He probably wouldn't be able to spit for a while. His jaw looked like it might be out of place...

"Are you two _sure_ you don't want to go to the infirmary?" I broke the tense silence. As unit leader it was my duty to see to the health and well being of my team.

"No!" The malice in Coyote's response made me think I would have to tread carefully around him for a few days, just for making the suggestion...again.

"It's not necessary." Cub answered in a soft voice from up ahead of us. Even if his injuries were not as obvious, I knew they were there. Coyote hadn't gotten very many hits through Cubs defenses, but there had been a few. Each time it happened, Cub had maintained his calm composure, regardless of how much power had been behind the hit. It hadn't even registered on his face. He just kept moving and retaliated.

The fight had been a bloody battle that seemed like it would never end. And when it finally did, there was nothing anyone could say to bring back even a remote sense of normality.

It wasn't until Cub had Coyote flat on his back in a firm chokehold that he ceased his constant movements. The sound of Coyote choking seemed to finally reach Cub in whatever universe his conscious mind had sunk into. The fight had been one long, intense battle for dominance; one that Cub won with astounding finality.

000000000000000

Red. All I could see was red again. I was beginning to hate that color. I knew it was a bad idea to do this. I was out of control. Well, that wasn't really true. It's more that my being _in_ control had gotten out of control. It's like I couldn't shut it off now. No matter what I do, I'm just...empty. A clean slate, a blank canvas.

And I know that I'm going crazy again. I know, because I don't even remember the fight. I remember the beginning and the end, but everything in-between is just one big blur to me. I can feel bruises where I don't remember getting hit, and I'm dripping blood where I don't remember skin breaking.

I had been too far-gone. Too far removed from myself to acknowledge what was even happening to me in the moment. And Coyote...I glanced back and saw him tromping along behind the other two, his face a bloody mass of bruises. _When did I do that?_ How could I do that?

_I'm more dangerous than I thought._

It was more than a little disturbing to know that I could take such drastic actions and be so completely removed from it. It wasn't until the last moment of the fight when I finally seemed to flood back into awareness. My body had been moving on autopilot, automatically acting and reacting without needing to be told how. I knew that the match had not been a good idea, but I hadn't thought it would be this bad. And the looks I was getting now...

After this, it would be harder to maintain cover. My unit would be even more determined to find out my secrets. Not to mention that the Sergeant would be told as well. I hated to think of the extremes he would go to now that I had revealed myself in such a way. It wasn't only my unit either. It seemed that several recruits had somehow made it over to the arena once they saw that a fight was going on. I didn't know it until the fight had ended, but at least seven other people had joined the others on the sidelines. When I had stepped off the platform however, they had parted like the red sea. It seemed I was just not meant for an inconspicuous reputation at this camp. The question is: what was I going to do about it? The damage was done. Thinking of a solution would be more helpful than dwelling on the problem.

Well, first I wanted to get this blood off of me. I looked down at my hands. They were covered in blood, and most of it wasn't mine. The last time I'd had blood on my hands...It was an unpleasant reminder...

"I'm going to head back to the hut." I came to an abrupt standstill and looked back at the others. No point drawing more unwanted attention by going to lunch looking like this. "I'm...not really hungry anymore." They looked at me with a critical eye, but Lion nodded eventually.

"Don't miss the afternoon lecture." I gave a nod of acknowledgment and headed off in the other direction. I could feel their eyes on the back of my head...

**And there you go! For those of you who were waiting for Coyote to get his due, hope you liked it. I hope this was different enough from the typical evaluations, that you could all enjoy it. Also, don't bother telling me it's not believable, because I already know. I am a rational human being, and I wrote it unbelievable on purpose because I like it when he's super. Besides, Alex is crazy still, remember? :) REVIEW!!!**


	7. Chapter 7 To accept a challenge

**Yay! Chapter 7! You should all be grateful I like you enough to post stuff so soon. I think this is one of my personal favorite chapters so far.**

**Aquahina –**Yeah, I'm working on the POV thing. Still haven't perfected it.

**AR-bookworm –**Wow, that's dark. I have to admit it never occurred to me to have Alex kill Coyote. I don't think I could stomach that.

**Aimeal –**Thanks. Glad we worked that out too. You're right about those mistakes. I'll fix them some day…I'm trying to pay more attention to that.

**Ryuusquall –**Thank you. You make me feel special because that's what I'm aiming for.

**Not-so-average joe -**umm….I love you too. ;)

**Logos91 –**You seem to be the only one who caught that, or at least commented on it. Don't worry, be patient and we'll see K-Unit come into the mix.

**Procrastination Is My Game –**He didn't mean MI6, just the military in general.

**Iamlordmoldyshorts –**Thank you! It's always nice to hear that I'm successful in keeping this story somewhat original.

**ScrapHappy –**It makes me so happy to know I'm not completely failing with the pov's. Thanks.

**Prone2dementia –**You win a prize too for reviewing each chapter! Thanks for pointing that out about changing the tone of the pov's. I'll work on that.

**TO EVERYONE: Thank you for reviewing! You inspire me to post faster!**

**Chapter 7 -To accept a challenge**

The walk to the lecture tent had never felt so long before. It wasn't the distance. No...It was all of the eyes following my every step. I'd always been particularly aware of when someone was watching me. It was a useful quality, and one that had saved my life on more than one occasion. Now however, it was beyond annoying. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, waiting for trouble that would never come. The men looking at me weren't intending any harm by it. It was just lingering curiosity. Still, the last place any spy wanted to be was the center of attention. Our very instincts directed us to hide, even among crowds. We preferred to linger in the shadows.

_I guess Coyote must have drawn a lot of attention at lunch. _

It was a great relief when I finally stepped through the tent doors and took a seat at the back of the class. That is, it was a great relief until I looked up...to see every single person in the tent staring back at me.

_Seriously! Was it really that big of a deal?_ So, I won a fight, so what? People won and lost matches around here all the time. Honestly, was it so hard to believe that I could hold my own?

"Thank you for joining us, _Cub_." Great, another reason for this instructor to hate my guts. It was another weapons lecture, and by the looks of things, it was shaping up to be a bad one.

"I apologize for being late, sir." I didn't want to antagonize the man anymore than I already had. Besides, my morning had left me in a bad mood, and I didn't want that to break out if I could help it. My mask was finally slipping. Finally...right when I didn't want it to.

"Since _Cub_ here feels that he is above all the rest of us, and he obviously knows this material so much better than we do, perhaps he'd like to come up here and tell us why the Browning L9A1 is the standard weapon issued to the British military today." _Wasn't expecting that. Not now… I'm already slipping._

My internal pleadings didn't do me any good. I was frozen for a moment, internally debating what to do. It wasn't that I didn't know the answer; I could have assembled most of the weapons on that table blindfolded if I had to. I just knew that I had already exposed my abilities a great deal today, and I wasn't sure if I should add one more weight to that particular pile. One more rock could tip the scale of balance out of my favor. I guess I must have hesitated for too long.

"Unless, of course, he really doesn't know. In which case, we'll just have to find an appropriate punishment for him." _Decision made._

_Why is everyone challenging me today? Am I sending off some sort of animalistic vibe?_

I stood up, and moved towards the lecture podium calmly. I accepted the firearm the instructor held out to me and held it with assured familiarity. It felt _comforting_ to have a weapon in hand again. I didn't let myself think of how ironically disturbing that comforting feeling was. I turned forward without raising my eyes and began answering his question.

"This particular Browning High-Power is a 9mm, single-action, semi-automatic. John Browning, an American firearms inventor, created the basic design for this particular handgun, but he passed away in 1926, before the model was completed." I saw the instructor jerk suddenly out of the corner of my eye. I continued in the same steady voice. "The High-Power name alludes to its 13-round magazine capacity, which is almost twice that of other contemporary designs such as the Mauser 1910, or the Luger. The pistol first came into use in 1940 during World War II…"

I continued in this manner, reaching a comfortable rhythm in my explanation. It was easy to relive my past lessons on this weapon. I could remember Ian first introducing me to this particular model when I was six. He had taken me to a gun show at a local convention. For some reason he had spent more time teaching me about this model than any other. I guess I could understand the significance of that now…Later, Scorpia had just added to that foundation. It was strange to think that while other kids my age had been reading plays like _Macbeth_, and learning how to factor polynomials, I had been learning how to use simple mechanical devices to kill people. It brought the stark reality that was my existence into clear focus.

Eventually though, I finally exhausted my knowledge base on this particular weapon. For some reason I couldn't explain even to myself, I reached down for the next firearm on the table and continued my lecture without pausing.

"This model, the SIG Sauer P226, is a little different from the Browning L9A1. While both pistols, the SIG P226 is full-sized and…"

Before I knew it, I was winding down, explaining the last of the items on the table. I didn't even know how I had reached this point. Somehow, each time I would finish explaining one weapon, another would find its way to my hand and I would be lost again in buried memories. It was a little too easy to be familiar with all of the weapons and I had been talking for over an hour. I had seen the instructor sit down to my right about half an hour ago. I hadn't meant to talk this long, but he hadn't stopped me, and once I had gotten started, it was easy to keep going. My brain had kind of shut down and run off on its own.

I'm not sure why I was doing this. I guess I was just so _tired_. I was tired of pretending to be an innocent, little kid. I was tired of having to prove myself over and over again. I was _tired_ of being strong.

"...As you can see, although the L96 was the preferred sniper rifle for many years, the L115A3 is superior in several areas, which is why it has recently been replacing the older model. If any of you have ever shot one, you know it's got quite a kick, but it's extremely accurate. Any questions?"

I finally looked up and away from the L115A3 sniper rifle in my hands, to see every single eye on me, and multiple mouths dropped open in surprise. The room seemed to…stutter, before several hands suddenly shot up.

000000000000

It was moments like this that made me regret my decision to become the leader of my unit. Taking on the role of responsibility was difficult when there were so many unknowns involved; and right now there were a lot of them. We had just been observing Cub as he made his way back to our barracks to clean up after his fight with Coyote. As soon as he disappeared from our line of sight, everyone began talking at once.

"Lion, did you see--"

"Miserable little punk, he--"

"I can't believe what--"

It was a moment or two before we all got back on the same page. "Coyote, are you sure you're alright? And don't say you're fine, because I saw that fight myself, and I'm astounded you're still in one piece!"

"Lay off Lion, how could I have known Cub "the Terror" was hiding behind that innocent _child's_ face?"

"Innocent? What kid have you been observing for the past week? Cub's about as far from innocent as you are from moving to Hollywood, becoming a showgirl, and changing your name to Gloria Honeysuckle." Even in what could be deemed crisis mode, Boar was still trying to lighten the mood. "Didn't you see what he did?"

"See it? Who do you think became his personal punching bag?" Coyote was getting riled up again, which was the last thing we needed. "If I hadn't _seen_ it myself, I wouldn't have thought he was capable of hurting a dandelion! Of course I saw it! I just have a hard time believing it, there's a difference." If I didn't step in soon, Coyote would only get more worked up.

"Come on guys, cool it. This is getting us nowhere." _Sometimes I feel like I'm babysitting children. _"Coyote, stop avoiding the question. How badly are you injured?" He glared at me, still hoping to avoid the issue, but eventually he relaxed his shoulders and sighed.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Obviously, my face has seen better days, and I'm sure I'll be sore for a while, but mostly it's just really deep bruises. My face honestly caught the worst of it."

I gave him a long searching look. I knew Coyote's tendency to keep things to himself, in order to not appear weak. I wasn't about to take his analysis at face value. "Come on, we're taking you to the infirmary." I knew I was looking for trouble by forcing this, but it didn't make a difference. His safety had to come first.

"Lion, listen it's not--"

"No, you listen! I haven't seen a fight like that since Tiger got in that drunken bar fight on leave and ended up in the hospital, and that didn't end well for anyone! No one in _my_ unit is going to get a concussion on my watch! _I_ am your commanding officer, and _I_ deem it necessary for you to get looked over, so move it, soldier!" Sometimes, you just had to pull rank. The glare returned to his face before he obediently stomped off in the right direction.

After Coyote had gotten checked out and we were on our way back to the mess hall, we were finally able to process what had happened. Three cracked ribs, strained muscles on the left shoulder, minor blood loss, a broken pinky, a minorly dislocated jaw, a few loose teeth, and cuts and bruises covering over every inch of him. That's what it finally equated to. _How could a teenager do that?_ We were still blown away. Honestly, I was relieved that the damage hadn't been worse. From the looks of things, it easily could have been.

Coyote was looking much better now that he'd been cleaned up and bandaged a bit, but it was still obvious he had been in a pretty gruesome fight. The medical staff had, of course, been curious as to how Coyote came to be that way, and were astonished when we told them who had been his opponent. They also mentioned that by the looks of things, Cub must have purposely avoided all the more vital areas, because while somewhat severe, the damage was not inflicted on any major organs or pressure points. They hadn't seen many injuries this precise before. We weren't sure what to make of _that_ observation. Cub could have done it on purpose, or it could have been purely coincidental.

When we walked into the lunchroom, we got a lot of curious looks too. People generally paid a lot of attention to Cub when he was around, and his absence from our group was painfully obvious. That, in addition to Coyotes 'new look', and people were getting the general idea. After several had come over to our table to confirm their suspicions, there was a lot of speculation among the recruits as to what kind of riffraff Cub was involved in.

I think if Coyote had had his way, no one would know the reasons behind the evidence on his face. Unfortunately for him, we weren't the only one's who had seen the fight, and it looked like the trainer and the other observers had been spreading the word on their own. The longer we stayed, the more agitated Coyote became and finally, he asked if we could head over to the lecture hall a little early.

I knew better than to push the issue when I already knew he was not in any pressing danger. We dumped our trays, and made our way over to the tent and to a few seats in the corner of the large room. Quietly, we resumed our conversation.

"Lion, what do _you_ think he is?" Boar was asking sincerely, but I couldn't help the biting tone my response took.

"You mean, besides a very young, teenage boy living in an adult world?" After seeing his startled expression, I lost my glare and sighed. I wasn't really angry at Boar. I just couldn't help my need to protect Cub. Something gave me the feeling he wasn't protected often. "Sorry. I honestly don't know. Sometimes though, I get the feeling that Cub is _right_, and we really _don't_ want to know. I'm just not sure why."

"I know what you mean." I looked up at Coyote in surprise. "Don't get me wrong, I still have no love lost for the little brat, but the look in his eyes at the very end there...Something tells me Cub is a little _too_ used to fights like that." He paused and then in his own little world, his words seemed to continue on their own. "The only way I can describe that look is..._pain_. Cub is in pain. I'm not sure why, but I'm sure if we knew who he was, we'd find out…" His musings faded, and his eyes came back into focus. "I don't think I'd want to fight him again anytime soon."

To have Coyote this affected by the fight and disturbed enough to share his impressions was not a comforting sign. _And what is this pain Coyote's talking about? _Something told me that that pain was the key to understanding my youngest member. I was not ignorant enough to assume that Cub wanted to be here. My observations had led me to believe that Cub was one unhappy kid. It was really no wonder, considering where he was. This camp was not made for children; it was made to turn regular, tough men into the ultimate fighting machines. Even so, I knew that Cub's hidden pain had little to do with where he was now, and a lot to do with where he had come from. Something…a lot of something's had happened to make him this way.

While we had been analyzing the new Cub we'd seen that day, the tent had been filling up. It looked like the conversation around us was still focused on Cub as well. Pretty soon, the instructor began his lecture on modern weapons and their development into common use. I looked around to see if Cub had remembered to come, but didn't see him. I sighed. I'd have to pull him aside later to sort some things out.

About five minutes into the lecture, someone entered the tent. It was like a wave at first. The people closer to the entrance glanced back, and everyone followed suit. Cub. He looked a little better having cleaned up. In fact, his face even had some expression again. Is that _relief_? _I wonder what's causing that?_ He took a seat in the back near the door, trying to look insignificant. When he looked up though, you could see his surprise at what was looking back at him. Unfortunately, the instructor had noticed as well. Cub apologized, but I could tell the instructor was not about to back down so easily this time.

"Since _Cub_ here feels that he is above all the rest of us, and he obviously knows this material so much better than we do, perhaps he'd like to come up here and tell us why the Browning L9A1 is the standard weapon issued to the British military today." I knew this had been a long time coming. In the past week, Cub had shown absolutely _no_ interest in this class or in most of the others. I would have liked to defend my youngest member, but regrettably, he seemed to deserve it. I could see Cub's debate with himself in his eyes, before the instructor's challenge seemed to make up his mind about...something.

_What is he doing?_ He didn't honestly think he could bluff his way through that question did he? But Cub was up on the podium now, accepting the pistol the instructor held out to him. A calm look descended on him as he grasped the firearm, and then Cub began speaking...

! ! ! ! !

I couldn't register anything he was saying at first. My brain was still catching up with the fact that Cub seemed to be some sort of weapons expert, or at least he knew a lot about that particular gun. I was as familiar with this weapon as most of the men in the room were, and yet Cub wasn't SAS. Technically, he shouldn't know most of the information he was relating.

I thought he would step down when he had finished with the instructor's question, but instead Cub just picked up the next item and kept on going. It was as if there was no transition between the two items. Before long, I found myself forgetting that this was Cub, and became enraptured by what was being taught.

While his face remained impassive, Cub's voice took on a melodic tone as he carefully spoke about one weapon after another. He handled each piece with a grace and care that spoke of easy familiarity and confidence, as if he were a collector who valued each piece separately from the others.

When I was finally able to concentrate on what he was actually saying, I was astonished to hear that he spoke of each piece the same way he handled it, with easy familiarity. He described its origins, its humble contributions to the fabrics of history, and how its development over time had shaped it into the piece of art it was today. The way he described each item's history was entrancing. The most disturbing part of his accolade came when he continued his melodic instructions on how each could be used to kill. His voice carried on in an almost loving tone as he described the accuracy of each instrument, the varying uses each piece could adjust too, and how much damage to the body each weapon could singularly inflict. It probably would not have meant as much coming from someone else, but to hear a teenager speak of death in such a casual, matter-of-fact way…it was more than a little unsettling.

Time passed, and all of us hardly noticed, so caught up as we were in Cub's demonstration. Even the instructor had sat down long ago and simply listened to Cub carry on. We were so lost in surprise, so riveted by the picture he was painting, that when he finally stopped, none of us knew how to respond.

"Any questions?" It seemed like the room breathed in together as one, before reality came crashing down.

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"How did you know all of that?" The question had come from a soldier I hadn't met before, but recognized vaguely from his file.

"Any questions relating to the material covered?" I wasn't about to turn this into an inquiry into my life. Better to stop those questions from the beginning. I was expecting this, but I had a lot of experience evading unpleasant inquiries, and I might as well put that experience to good use. I pointed to another man further in the back.

"How do you know that the L115A3 has quite a kick?" I groaned inwardly, looks like they weren't about to give up so easily.

"Still a little off base, but close enough that I'll indulge you. I know because I've shot every weapon on this table at least once. It's useful to have a basic knowledge of a variety of weapons. Sometimes, opportunity may afford you the use of your opponent's weapon in a fight. If you don't know how to use it, it will _not_ be an asset. The L115A3 can reach targets up to 600 feet away. Unless you have it set up on a stationary tripod, you'll walk away with one heavy bruise, and even then you have to be firmly braced for impact if you're not using one. Sniper rifles typically won't be used in close combat however, so you will rarely acquire one unless it is personally issued to you. "Next?" I pointed to another man, who didn't look quite as over-eager as some of the others.

"You mentioned that you preferred hallow point bullets over full metal jackets. Can you explain why?"

Not a surprising question. I might as well be truthful. Still, I paused for a moment. "The preference in bullets greatly depends on what the mission is. The wounds that the full metal jackets inflict are much less...messy. Since hallow point bullets explode inside the body, there is often a lot more blood extracted in those kills. When using full metal jackets, cleaning up the body afterward isn't nearly so...challenging. Of course, it also depends on where you shoot the target. Aim for the heart or any other major arteries, and you're sure to get a lot of blood no matter what type of bullet you're using. Aiming for the head is a better bet. The military typically does not issue smaller firearms; however, smaller bullets such as the .22 won't even penetrate the back of the skull once the bullet enters, so that could be the best option if you know that a quick cleanup will be necessary. However, in your particular line of work, it's rare that you personally clean up the bodies, so it may make little difference to you." I paused and thought it over some more. "In spite of the mess hallow tips may create, they still kill faster, which is usually more important in any situation." I refocused on the group before me, only to realize I had stumped them into silence again. "Any other questions?"

I could tell that my next questioner was struggling to format his question into my acceptable limits. "In your...line of work, which is your preferred firearm?" I paused. Technically this was just an opinion question. I wasn't really revealing anything. The options for what my...profession could be were still endless.

"If I had to choose, I would probably prefer the Kahr P9 double-action semi-automatic. It's American manufactured, and one of the smallest and lightest pistols in the world. It helps to be overly familiar with whatever weapon you are carrying, which is probably why it's my first choice." My mind suddenly conjured images of targets from my past that I had aimed for with that gun. Pictures of people, the faces of countless strangers I used to target on Malagosto. And then, an image of someone I _did_ know swam into my vision…Tulip Jones. I caught myself right before almost shaking my head to get the memories out, forcing myself to continue without interruption. "However, in most cases my _line of work_ has not allotted me the use of _any_ firearm. You should be prepared to survive without one, if necessary; and you should also be prepared to use any type of weapon which fate may provide you." I was done with this. I was getting bored now, this was no longer entertaining, and I was certain I had made my intended point. Too many memories...issues were coming the forefront of my mind now. Things I didn't want to think about. I turned back to the seated instructor.

"If that's all, sir, I believe I'll be going. This class is set to end in..." I glanced at my watch. "...four minutes. Perhaps you'd like to finish off the last few minutes left." I didn't move for a moment, waiting to see if he would insist on me staying. He didn't move though, so I briskly made my way out of the tent.

Over an hour after I had entered that tent, I was much more relieved leaving it than I had been on entering.

**I always wanted to do a scene where Alex teaches a class just by being challenged. I hope this isn't too cliché or the same as other fics. I really tried to keep it pretty original. Also, I did the research on all of the weapons mentioned, and they are all standard British issue, so I hope I got all the facts right. If not, oh well. I did the best I could, and it still sounds pretty good to me. Please review and tell me what you think!!!**


	8. Chapter 8 Taking Advantage

**So, wondering if I had dropped off the grid entirely? Nope, not yet. Sorry for the long delay everyone. I had this chapter written already, but frankly I wasn't very happy with it, and I got stuck for a while and didn't know where I was going to be taking this. I'm happy to say, I have a few more things up my sleeves, and some of you should really like what's coming. The one good thing about the delay is that I had a lot more reviews than usual-THANK YOU, I have the best reviewers ever! I'm actually not going to put responses to reviews on here anymore because there are just too many, unless there is a general message I want everyone to know. I will try and respond directly from the reviews now if someone asks a question. That said, (I hope at least some of you read this message before moving on to the good stuff already) I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Chapter 8 –Taking Advantage**

What makes a man? It is the biological factors, that 'Y' chromosome, or the DNA genes? How about the inclination to protect women and children, the drive to provide a living, or the motivation and instinct to become a father? Was it the more aggressive nature, the ability to be more cruel, or the superior muscles used to enforce dominance? Could it be, that a man is someone who is accepted by society, once they have been shaped and molded into acceptable limits by that very _same_ society?

Or, was it something else entirely? Could it be that what ultimately makes a man, are the choices themselves, rather than who the man was in the beginning? If that was the case, then could anything be justified? At what point could a child be identified and labeled as a man? What factor finally converted a boy into an adult with heavy responsibilities?

"Alex, what's wrong?" I suddenly jerked out of my musings to see Max with a concerned expression painting his features. " I can tell that something is bothering you. You don't always hide your expressions the way you think you do. It's easy to see...if you know what to look for." The concern didn't leave his face, and I began wondering what kind of man _he_ was.

"I'm just...preoccupied." That was really an understatement; I was more than preoccupied. I was in the depths of self-evaluation; trying to unravel the greatest mystery I had ever encountered..._me_. I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something. That deep down inside my very make-up as a person, I was lacking in some monumental way. Otherwise, how could I be this messed up? Well...besides the obvious reasons.

Or, maybe _that_ was the answer. Maybe my experiences had twisted me on such a drastic level, that there was no avoiding the resulting person I was now, leaving no way to repair the damage...

"Alex, did something happen yesterday?" Once again, Max pulled me out of my self-torture. It was disturbing how easily I was losing focus. Just another sign...

"Many things." I'm not sure why I was answering. I guess in some ways I wanted someone to feel the same pain. The pain of losing oneself to forces they can't control. Maybe then, I could have peace in knowing that _someone_ else understood, at least on some level.

"Do you want to talk about it? We obviously aren't going to make much progress elsewhere today." He had a point. I had been zoning in and out continuously over the last hour. Too tormented to acknowledge anything else as important.

"I'm afraid I lost control a little yesterday." I just started right in. It was coming out on its own anyway.

"Lost control how?" I looked up to see him looking curious and concerned all at once.

"I had to do a test in physical combat with one of my unit members. It…didn't end well." I didn't think details were important. I had to remember that this man was from MI6. The last thing I wanted was for him to send a nice, little, informative message back to Blunt about how messed up I was. "I also…revealed a lot of my…knowledge in weaponry to a large class." I didn't want to see Max's expression, but finally I looked up to gage his reaction.

"And why is this upsetting you so much?" _Good question._ Why _was_ this upsetting me so much? I guess I could chock it up to a lot of different things, but the truth is I wasn't sure I understood it myself.

"Do you think there's a point of no return?" I finally came out and said what was really bothering me. "What I mean is, do you think that once a person has done some very bad things, there is a point where he can no longer come back to himself because he is too far gone?" I'm not sure if I was making any sense, but my thoughts were so disjointed, I had to be proud that I'd gotten anything out at all. Max looked like he was seriously considering my inquiry. After a moment or two, he haltingly began to answer.

"I think that depends on a lot of different things." I dropped my shoulders in disappointment. It didn't look like he had any answers. "Just hear me out though." he must have seen my expression. He tentatively began again. "What do you think is more important? The action itself, or the motivation behind it? For example, if someone does something good, but they do it for completely selfish reasons, does that diminish the significance of their act?" Ok, not a direction I was expecting. I took a moment to think that over.

"I think so. I've met people who felt they were entitled to personal gain because of their 'good' actions, and it wasn't very endearing." My thoughts turned to some of the criminals I had encountered over the past year. "In fact, I think most evil people believe that what they are doing is justified, no matter how terrible it may be. Their personal motives outweigh any consequences."

"Exactly, Alex, exactly!" He was getting excited, pleased with my answer, as if this was just another philosophy lesson. "Think of men and women throughout history, who have made monumental decisions and you'll see that the motivations _behind_ their actions made their decisions _far_ more reaching than their actions would ever have been on their own. Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, or even the 'good' guys in history. Think of the American president, Abraham Lincoln. There's a man who had all the right motivations, and yet during his time, thousands of people thought he was evil incarnate. He even managed to get other countries involved in that war of right and wrong. Hitler, on the other hand, had millions of people following him, who all thought he had the right idea. Who's to say who was right or wrong? In each society, there is a precedent set for what is acceptable and what is not. What makes a man great, is his determination to go _against_ the grain of his society, in support of his own convictions." All of that made sense on some level, but I still wasn't sure how this applied to me.

"But, how do you determine what is justified within your own convictions? How do you know when you've gone so far, that your motivations are no longer enough to justify your actions?" His eyes pierced into mine as I asked the question. He continued searching my eyes for answers that weren't there. Finally, he sighed.

"The only way I can answer that Alex, is that it's something each person has to figure out for themselves at some point in their lives. You aren't alone in that. Everyone comes to a turning point at some time within their own existence; perhaps you've reached yours." I guess I would have to accept that there were no easy answers. "Alex, even the good guys have to do bad things sometimes. If you've had to do some bad things for the right reasons…don't let it stop you from living by your convictions." He left it at that and let me process what he had said.

I wasn't sure I could accept that last piece of advice. He was, in part, suggesting that I continue with my chosen vocation in spite of my reservations. I guess it was true that I had little choice in the matter; but still, I couldn't even think about that until I was more mentally stable. I guess the good news was that I _knew_ I was mentally unstable. Most men in my position were not in their right minds on some level. You couldn't be…to accept the tragedy and death around you. Whenever I didn't think it could get any worse, somehow I was proven wrong.

But, if a man was defined by the motivation behind his actions, then there was only one question I needed to answer. What kind of man was I?

00000000000000

_I hate being wet._ It's cold, inconvenient; usually it meant I was in danger...

_Wow_. I usually don't complain this much. The rain had been a constant presence ever since we had started off on this excursion. I guess it was a sign that spring was on its way. Normally, I loved rain; but when you're tromping through a jungle with 40 pounds on your back and your shoes are caked in six inches of mud, rain stopped being a beautiful thing.

I looked back up from my feet to check on how far behind I was now. _Not too bad_. I could see Coyote blazing the trail about a yard in front of Boar, and Lion was following him a short distance behind. Honestly, though he tried to hide it, I knew Lion was lagging behind for me. I don't know why I was having such a difficult time today. I think that yesterday's events had broken me temporarily. I was shut off again.

My conversation with Max this morning had done little to bring me back to caring. We'd been unceremoniously sent out on a night hike of sorts. It wasn't really an operation, but more of a basic exercise to test our endurance in bad weather and harsh conditions. In some ways this over-night exercise was a good thing. It got me away from the prying eyes and curious faces of hundreds of overgrown _children_. On the other hand, it also gave my unit ample opportunity to drill me on their own, away from all those prying eyes. I couldn't decide which was worse, but it didn't matter anyway. I was certain that the Sergeant was purposely planning events in his favor to extract whatever information he could from me. No doubt one of my unit members had been recruited to dissect my every move.

That wouldn't have bothered me too much, except that I knew Lion would be at the forefront of the inquisition. I'd already determined that he was too good at seeing things he shouldn't. Prime agent material to be honest. For his sake, I hoped the administration never discovered that talent.

But, back to the matter at hand. I was still in my own little dream world at the moment. It wasn't really because I was the main attraction at camp after my _performances_ yesterday. No, when it really came down to it, sides of me were showing I hadn't realized existed. I was beginning to see myself clearly for the first time in a long time. It wasn't a pretty picture. There were sides of me I wish I didn't have. But then again, my whole life was like that. It was all about things I didn't want to do, dangers I didn't want to face, and people I didn't want dead. Why wouldn't _I_ be something I didn't want to be? It only made sense.

I don't know what brought on this self-recrimination. After all, who else would have survived this long and still remained psychologically attached on some level? I was doing all I could do, considering that I could only rely on _myself_ and no one else. Relying on people always meant getting burned in the end.

_Ouch!_ Stupid root. This jungle was a deathtrap. I was surprised I still felt anything at all, considering that I was still drenched in freezing, cold rain. I looked up, and was surprised to see how dark it had gotten while I had been in my own little world. I scanned the trail in front of me and saw that the others were slowing down, looking for somewhere to set up camp for the night. I picked up my pace and resigned, followed their lead. The others talked quietly among themselves while we set up our temporary shelters. I didn't join in the discussion, in spite of Lion's continued glances my way. Boar started a fire, and before long, we were gathered around the glorious heat, cooking our meager rations.

The conversation had ceased once I joined the group. No one seemed to know what to say around me. I couldn't really blame them. Coyote, at least, was still sporting some colorful bruises, and as for the other two...I didn't even need to say it. I had _really_ enforced my new policy of not caring yesterday. I guess this way, at least I was the one to expose something about myself by choice, instead of being forced to. I didn't always have control over that.

"Lion, what's the stupidest thing you've ever done?" Oh no. It was going to be one of _those_ nights. Boar seemed to have gotten tired of the eerie silence and decided to introduce a neutral topic to relieve the building tension. Lion looked at him irritated, before giving a resigned sigh and thinking about the question.

"I guess that would be when I was 15, and I stole my father's car to take Olivia Sheffield on a date." The other two chuckled at that. I was a little amused myself. I wouldn't have thought Lion would be party to grand-theft-auto. "He came blazing into the drive-in, in my mother's minivan and dragged me back home after dropping Olivia off. It was embarrassing and mortifying and I was grounded for three months." It was difficult to imagine Lion as a regular teenager, being grounded and all. Then again, I kept forgetting that _I_ was the abnormal one, and most people around me had regular childhoods before getting into this world.

"I can top that." Coyote seemed eager to show Lion up, now that the ball had gotten rolling. "I was 12, and my _mother_ caught me smoking in the alley behind our house with a couple of my mates. You would have thought I had blown up the Pyramids from her reaction. I didn't know a beating like that existed inside such a tiny woman. I couldn't sit down for a two weeks without wincing." By this time, Lion and Boar were full-out laughing. "Bless her, though. Nasty habit to have in this line of work. Probably saved my life." He seemed to reflect on the memory with fondness by the end of it. In a way, it was fascinating to watch them this way. It's like they reverted to...normal people. Or at least, what I imagined a normal group of people would be like. I had realized long ago, that what I was used to was _far_ from normal. Boar jumped in, eager to share his own discrepancy.

"I've got you both beat. My stupidest moment involved _true_ embarrassment, not just honest, well-deserved punishment. I was 16, and my 10-year-old sister asked me to play with her. You don't know my sister, but if you ever say no to her, she can make your life miserable." The other two leaned forward, soaking the story in. "She told me to close my eyes, and she would get me ready to play. Well, I felt her doing something to my face, but I figured whatever it was could wash off easy. You have to indulge little sisters like that sometimes. Anyway, imagine my surprise when I finally opened my eyes and found my face colored in _permanent_ colored markers. Had to go to school that way and everything. Luckily, I'm a man and I could take it." He finished his tale with a proud look on his face. By this point, Lion and Coyote were practically having fits they were laughing so hard. I looked around, worried that the noise would draw unwanted attention.

"Cub, what about you?" My attention snapped back to Lion who seemed to have sensed my unease, and obviously wanted me to be part of the mirth.

"I'd rather not say." I glanced away again. It wasn't that I couldn't tell them. Goodness knows I'd already exposed a lot of myself in the last few days. But…my stories were not happy, funny ones. I didn't really want to take away from their night of pleasant memories, and I didn't have many of those myself.

"Oh, come on Cub. It can't be _that_ embarrassing." I gave Boar a pitying look and then sighed in resignation and focused on the ground.

"Do you really want to know?" I wanted to give them an opportunity to back out if they wanted. I looked up to see them nodding in affirmation, now much more curious than before.

"The stupidest thing I ever did was investigate my uncle's death." I said it so straightforward, that the mood was abruptly shattered and silence descended once more.

"Why was that stupid? How did he die?" Surprisingly, it was Coyote who asked. I couldn't read his mood today. I would have expected accentuated hostility after our encounter yesterday. Instead, I just found more curiosity; as if my defeating him had made him admire me in some way. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I was _told_ he died in a car crash." I ignored his first question. The answer wasn't something I could, or wanted to fully explain, even if I had hours to delve into it.

"Told? You mean, you were lied to?" Lion looked like he was trying to solve that riddle again, trying to figure me out.

"Yes. Not an uncommon thing from adults in my experience." He adopted a concerned look at that.

"How did he die really? Did you ever find out?" _I don't want to think about this._ Truth be told, I had gotten over my uncle's death quite a while ago; but thinking of one death just reminded me of another, and another...

"Yes, I found out." I was losing myself again...slipping. My voice was taking on that soft, dead quality one associates with funerals. "He was assassinated. Died in the line of duty. Serves him right in some ways. Bound to happen." I had lost all sense of what I was saying. Coyote asked me another question and I answered without thinking.

"Served him right?"

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. Lying, manipulating, training...I don't think I ever knew the real him, not really. I wonder if my dad would have been the same way?" I was reflecting again, except this time, the words were coming out of my mouth instead of staying in my head like they should have.

"What do you mean? Weren't you raised by your dad?" Lion was taking advantage of my internal lapse of judgment. How is it that I could sense _that_, and yet I couldn't tell myself to quit talking?

"No. My parents died when I was one. Never knew them. My uncle raised me."

"Well…if your uncle's dead too then...who takes care of you now?" I could tell that Lion was truly concerned. This wasn't just gathering data anymore; he really wanted to know. Almost unconsciously, my hand came up and rubbed my chest where my constant reminder of failure lay. I couldn't help but associate my bullet wound with her death. I had come closer to death than anyone could come. And I had been so close…but not close enough to save her.

"No one. Guardian died eight days ago, end of story." It was the subject that finally snapped me out of it. I brought up my protective walls so suddenly; I startled myself, dropping my hand as if I had been burned. I stood up and moved towards my sleeping shelter, but Lion asked one more question.

"Cub...how old _are_ you?" I looked back at him. Of all the questions he could have asked, I wasn't expecting such a simple one.

"15. My last birthday was three weeks ago." With that, I retreated and didn't look back.

**So, what do you think? Please keep letting me know, because it really helps me improve. I know that Alex is still kind of stuck emotionally right now, and it may get tiring, but that's his world right now. That's all he knows. Just one hint about the next chapter: someone we know is about to show up. Any guesses? Also, does anyone know how to get my responses to reviews to show up in my reviews? I haven't figured that out yet, and I usually want everyone to be able see them, so if anyone has the same question they can see my answer. Thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9 What have you done now?

**I'm so glad you all liked the last chapter! Than you for all the reviews! I think that my readers are much less critical of me than I am of myself. Thank you for all of your advice and feedback, because it really helps me know what to look for. Well, some of you were right...some of you were wrong... I'm sure you are all dying to find out who was and who wasn't so I won't keep you...**

_Previously..._

_"Cub...how old are you?" I looked back at him. Of all the questions he could have asked, I wasn't expecting such a simple one._

_"Fifteen. My last birthday was three weeks ago." With that, I retreated and didn't look back. _

**Chapter 9 -What have you done now?**

Well, I guess that was one question answered. We'd wanted to know what was causing Cub's pain, and somehow we had uncovered it, or at least a little bit. When I asked Cub the same question the rest of us had answered I was not expecting what I got back. I mean, what kind of child has such serious answers to something that should be funny or amusing? And fifteen! I knew Cub was young, but I had no idea he had been fourteen when he first came here. It was mind-blowing. Particularly after seeing the fight with Coyote, to know that a fifteen-year-old had those kinds of abilities was unbelievable...and disturbing.

There was just nothing to say after Cub left the fire's glow. We all just sat there and processed what he had revealed. That was another thing. Why had he revealed it? Cub had always been so careful about exposing anything about himself willingly, so why had he shared his family circumstances now?

"I had no idea Cub's situation was so...tragic." Boar broke the reverie. It seemed like Boar had need to become serious every time something with Cub occurred.

"Well, we never really asked him did we? I don't think any of us really gave him the benefit of the doubt." I felt overwhelmed with sadness for what Cub must have been going through this past week. So much of what he had done made sense now. All that pain we couldn't explain…it must all be tied to his guardian's death.

"But, if he doesn't have a guardian, than who sent him here?" Coyote raised a fair question. Who was pulling Cub's strings?

"I don't know, but this whole situation makes me uneasy. If Cub's guardian died eight days ago, that means he was sent here before whoever they were was cold in their graves. There has to be a bigger picture here we aren't seeing." The other two paused and evaluated that. I knew I was right about something bigger going on, I just wasn't sure how big that something was.

"No kidding!" Coyote lashed out sarcastically whenever he was stumped. "What gave it away? The impressive fighting skills? The overwhelming amount of firepower knowledge? How about that incredibly annoying ability of his to not express even the tiniest fraction of emotion whenever he feels like it? Honestly, I think we're all clued in!" Boar and I gave similarly shocked expressions after his outburst. Was Coyote actually _admitting_ that Cub was skilled? "Come on, Lion. We all know something fishy is going on, the question is: are we going to _do_ anything about it?"

"Well, it's not as if we can storm into the sergeant's office and demand answers! Honestly, I think he knows just as little as the rest of us." My frustration was finally coming out in full bloom.

"What makes you say that?" _Oops_. Boar seemed to have caught me out. The sergeant hadn't really said I couldn't tell my unit about his little 'assignment' for me, but that didn't mean he had authorized it either.

"I just think that Cub's strings are being pulled from someone higher up is all. Everyone here, _including_ the sergeant, has expressed nothing but displeasure at him being here. If he was some sort of 'pet project' of theirs don't you think they'd be a little more respectful?" Boar's expression cleared and I sighed, relieved that he seemed to buy that.

"Yeah, I guess so. Still, I wish _someone_ knew his story. I know Cub's given us no trouble as a unit member—"

"Speak for yourself!" Coyote interjected.

"-_but_, it would still be a lot more helpful if we understood why he behaves the way he does. It's more than just this guardian business, I'm sure of it." I had to admire Boar's evaluation. It's true that Cub was very efficient in everything we had attempted as a unit so far. He couldn't always keep up in everything _physically_ on the same level, but he held is own as much as necessary, and even surpassed us on some things. I wondered if he was like that the first time he was here. _Wait a minute…_

"Hey, guys, what if…Cub's _old_ unit knows? I mean, maybe that's why he's not with them now. They may have found out about him and had some sort of falling out." I couldn't believe how close Coyotes negative conclusions coincided with my own musings. I had just been wondering if Cub's old unit members would have more insight into our youngest member. They hadn't trained for Cub for very long, and Cub's first disappearance had been somewhat mysterious; however, his old unit would most likely have the most insight of anyone we had access to. Still, I didn't want any of us to draw conclusions about the _motivations_ behind any of this.

"Come on, Coyote. You know K-unit isn't even here for Cub to train with. It's more likely that we were the second best option since he was coming here anyway. If they had been here, he probably would have gone to them first." I knew I was right about that. We were missing a member, and obviously the timing of Cub's arrival to camp wasn't planned for. We were the more reasonable choice over forcing K-unit back to base. I had met Wolf. Cub would have been skinned alive if they were pulled off of assignment just for him.

"Lion's right" Boar stated clearly before Coyote could properly object. "We can't draw any conclusions about unknown factors. We _can,_ however, do some digging on our own once K-unit gets back. They've got to return to base at some point, and in the meantime, it doesn't hurt to keep our eyes and ears open." I couldn't help but admire Boar's mature attitude. "That is, if you can clean those ears of yours. Seriously, Coyote, when was the last time you bathed?" _And he's back. _Boar couldn't ever last too long without cracking some type of bad joke. Now he and Coyote were bantering back and forth on their own.

"Hey, guys. Settle down." _Ah, children_. "It's time we follow Cub's example and hit the hay ourselves. We've got another 15 miles to cover tomorrow, and I don't want to be pulling your weight." With that said, we all gravitated towards our own sleeping arrangements. Even in _that_, Cub had separated himself. He had chosen to sleep further away from all of us, away from the fire, and it was just another sign of his attempts to remain aloof. I was afraid he might be succeeding.

As I settled down for the night my mind was a confusing pool of various pieces of information, all centering on Cub. It seemed that ever since he crept into our lives I could think of little else. Last night had been a prime example of the changes in our little world. We were all unsettled by the day's events, and no one had been particularly eager to breech the wall Cub had built around himself, in spite of our lingering curiosity. When Coyote had finally thrown caution to the wind and attempted to satisfy that curiosity...it hadn't been pretty.

I couldn't understand how Cub could be so forthcoming one moment, and then so closed off the next. It was as if he had multiple personalities, or maybe he was unaware of his lapses into being open. And even more astonishing than these switches, I was almost certain that Cub _didn't care_.

Most people at this camp liked to maintain a sense of privacy and mystery about themselves. One of the reasons none of us knew each other's names was in an attempt to keep our private lives completely separated from our tasks here. Of course, some soldiers were better at maintaining that distance than others. It was only once we were accepted into the SAS for sure that private information was shared willingly. Until then, you never knew who would be sticking around and who could cause trouble for you if they left.

Cub seemed immune to such influence; and after learning about his family circumstances, I was beginning to understand why. He was just a kid. If he didn't have any guardians than he wouldn't have any family to compromise if personal information was shared. I was finally unraveling Cub's attitude, at least a little bit. Cub had only Cub; therefore, he was just looking out for himself. Being careless was easier if you didn't have anything to lose, and it was becoming clear that Cub didn't think he had much to lose.

Last night had been a prime example. When Coyote had demanded answers for Cub's behavior at the lecture, there had been little response. Cub had just gazed at him for a long moment until Coyote had chillingly backed down. Without uttering a single word, Cub had silenced an otherwise trigger-happy soldier. At the time, I had questioned Cub's sanity, regardless of the fact that I knew he could take care of himself. Ignoring an overzealous SAS soldier was not a wise thing to do, especially one who had something to prove. Then again, it _was _doubtful that Cub would _lose_ such a fight after having proved himself so exquisitely earlier.

In the end, we had all come to the unspoken agreement to lay the matter to rest for the time being and continue to observe Cub without interference. Things were coming out on their own anyway. Besides, he might still yet be persuaded to finally tell us who he is...

0000000000000000

I was awake. It happened so suddenly that my mind still held onto the last tendrils of my dream for a second. Jack had been reaching her arms out towards me... But then, in a single moment, I knew I was awake...and there was a reason.

A noise had woken me. My senses were too tuned to mistake what it was. _Someone_ was creeping towards the camp. I could feel it. My mind was suddenly aware on a whole new level. My body could tell it was in danger. That familiar adrenaline rush was already coursing through my body and preparing me for action.

I took a moment to listen carefully to pinpoint where the person was. _Far and to the left_. They were obviously moving towards the dying coals and the three other sleeping figures. I was, at once, grateful for my foresight in sleeping away from the revealing glow.

Before they could get close enough to decipher my own noise, I silently slipped out of my bedding, and crept around the trees behind me. Slowly, I moved towards their position from behind until I could make out their outline. It was a man. He was moving slowly and turning his head to observe the sleeping soldiers. Almost as if he were...looking for someone.

I decided that caution was advisable. I wasn't sure if this was just another SAS recruit, or someone intending harm. The evidence and possibilities to the latter were overwhelming. I crept closer until I was standing in his shadow.

It only took one second. He gave one brief cry of surprise before he was silenced by the knife positioned directly on his jugular. I had no scruples about attacking without provocation. He was invading _our _territory. I could tell right away that he was definitely not SAS. His clothing was not standard uniform, but didn't seem to be civilian attire either. They felt like some sort of alternate combat clothing.

"_Don't move_." I purposely injected my voice with venom. I wanted him to fear me. He should.

"Lion." I called softly, and the man in question immediately snapped up. He looked in our direction questionably and groggily, before becoming instantly alert. "Wake up the others. We've got company." He recognized my voice and softly woke up the other two men, before all of them cautiously walked towards us, stopping a few feet away when they assessed my current position.

"Who are you? You aren't SAS and you aren't a civilian, so don't try to lie to me. I have no problems gutting you like a fish should you give me a reason." I was startled to realize how natural such threats came to me. If I was being honest, I was being a little over-dramatic. I'd probably heard too many similar threats from people towards me to tone it down. My unit however, stiffened at my tone and shifted slightly towards Lion, unsure if I was serious or not.

"You must be Cub." was all the response the unknown creeper made. I stiffened myself, and pressed the knife a little more firmly on his neck.

"You have me at a disadvantage. Considering your calm reaction, you must not be alone. How many others are with you?" He hesitated to answer one moment too long, and I shook him a little forcefully before asking again. "How many?"

"Three." The answer did not come from the man in my grip. We all turned towards the newcomer abruptly. Another voice a couple of yards behind me and to my right spoke assuredly. A voice that sounded surprisingly like...

"Ben?" I didn't mean to make it a question, but it somehow came out that way. There were two more men standing behind him. Ben took another step towards me and I backed up a step, dragging my captive with me. "Ben, what is this?"

"Let him go, Alex. You know better than take on all four of us." He spoke as one in complete control. I couldn't deny the sense in that, but to both of our surprises, someone came to my defense.

"I think _you_ know better than to take on all four of _us_." Lion was obviously not going to give in easily to this unknown force. Ben looked surprised, and evaluated my units shifting position in my defense.

"_Interesting_. It seems you've gained some loyalty this time around Alex... I'm happy for you. Call off your dogs. We aren't here to fight you." I hesitated one more second, before releasing my captive with a slight shove. If I could trust anyone in this business, I knew it was Ben. There was a collective sigh of relief from the group as a whole. The man gravitated back to the others and now it seemed we were in some sort of standoff.

"Ben, why are you here?" I realized that in the few short minutes since I'd first woken up, the dawn had been breaking steadily, and I could now make out details I couldn't before. All three of the other men with Ben looked wary and alert, and for some reason (_ok, maybe for good reason_) that caution seemed to be directed at me. He gave me a blank look, before he smiled.

"It's good to see you too." I gave him a searching look, before allowing a small smile to grace my own expression. Cautiously, Ben and I walked towards each other until we were only a foot away.

"Well, if you're expecting a hello kiss, keep moving." He looked like he might cuff me for that remark, before a smile once again graced his features, and he started laughing. It was a shock to realize that somehow, I was laughing with him. I didn't know I _could_ still laugh. Before I knew what was happening, we were thumping each other on the back good-naturedly.

"It's good to see you, Alex." He pulled back and held me at shoulder length, sweeping his eyes over my features as if searching for something. "How have you been?" I could tell there was more to that question than just casual curiosity. I was surprised to realize that I was actually...glad to see him. He was someone who understood...at least on some level.

"Well, you know me, always causing trouble." My tone became more subdued in an instant and his expression shifted to caution once again as he dropped his grip on my arms and took a step back.

"Yes...I know." I looked at him questioningly at that comment. _What did that mean?_

"I hate to interrupt this little reunion." Coyote sounded extremely annoyed. "But, would someone _please_ explain what _exactly_ is going on?" Ben and I both looked at him, before I turned back to Ben myself and repeated Coyote's question.

"Yes. Ben, what _is_ going on? You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?" I could tell that Ben had slipped into wary mode almost instantly.

"Now, Alex, don't take this out on me. It's really your own fault, you know. I don't know what you did exactly, but Blunt's been more unreasonable than ever since he discovered whatever it is." In an instant, I realized why he was here. I adopted my blank expression, while smiling on the inside.

"I can neither confirm, nor deny your accusations. But, assuming I know anything about what you're referring to, I suppose you're an escort party then?" He didn't look at all pleased with my unwilling expression.

"Yes." He looked around and evaluating the increasing light. "We'd better be on our way too. Blunt and Jones are waiting back at the base for us.

"They both came?" That was unexpected.

"Yes. And neither one of them is very happy with you right now." He finally turned back to me and his gaze was curious again. "I don't know how you get yourself into these things Alex, but you really should try and utilize some self control once in awhile. Smithers is the only one who isn't ready to spit nails in your direction for getting Blunt in such straights, and most people don't even know what you did." From the expressions of the men with him, I could tell that included them.

"You can't honestly tell me that Blunt doesn't deserve some trouble of his own now and then." He looked thoughtful before admitting I had a point.

"You may be right. Nevertheless, this may have consequences not even _you_ predicted."

"I'll take my chances. Besides, there isn't much more they could do to me." Depression was sinking in again, and Ben seemed to gage my mood instantly. Hesitantly, he gave condolences.

"So I heard. I'm so sorry about Jack, Alex. I... know she meant a lot to you." I shrugged and turned away, proceeding towards my bedroll. Methodically, I began packing up.

"Yes. Well, we can't always control the world now, can we?" In spite of their growing confusion, S-Unit began packing their own gear as well, seeming to understand the underlying tension in the atmosphere. Ben decided it was a good time to shift focus and address them.

"We'll be escorting you guys back to base. The guard isn't really here for you, but _Cub_ here takes a more careful watch." The others were obviously surprised by four grown men being sent to pick up one teenager. Frankly, so was I, but for a different reason.

"Only four of you, Ben? Last time I believe it was over fifty. Blunt must be getting cocky." I gave an amused smile to Ben as he sent a soft glare in my direction.

"I'm fairly certain he believed your own guilt would drive you to being a little more...cooperative." _Well played_. He had a point.

"I'm sure he also figured that if _you_ were included in the escort party, I would be more..._willing_ to let that party return." I could see the wisdom in sending Ben to get me. Blunt knew that I would interpret anyone I didn't know as a threat first before asking questions.

"You always were fast to catch on." Ben smiled and turned in the direction he'd come from.

In record time, we were on our way. Ben was leading, the other three MI6 lackeys were surrounding me at various distances, and S-Unit brought up the rear. I'm sure Ben hadn't planned on our next meeting being this way. We had come to respect each other from our previous work together, and he had been placed in an uncomfortable situation.

I had the feeling this was going to be a very long hike.

**So? Who's excited that Ben is now in the mix? I know I am! This chapter was so fun to write, and I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry to leave all of you with such cliffhangers...I guess it's just my style. Bet it keeps you interested though. ;) Anyway, I will probably keep updates spaced out the way I have been lately because I'm much busier it seems. Please continue giving me feedback on what you like, what you don't like, and what you think of the story in general. It is really appreciated. **


	10. Chapter 10 Unexpected Consequences

**I know! I know! Don't hurt me! I know it's been ages. I don't really have an excuse except to say that I just wasn't in the mood for writing AR. I do however, have the nicest reviewers in the world, and I really appreciate everyone who's been sticking by me so far. You are all awesome! Those of you who are confused about what Alex did, don't worry you haven't missed anything. This chapter will probably confuse you more, but look for my note at the end and I'll explain. I hope this was worth the wait!**

_Previously (Since it's been so long): Ben showed up unexpectedly to escort Alex back to camp. Alan Blunt and Tulip Jones are waiting to confront Alex for something he did that made Alan very unhappy. Alex seems happy to see Ben, but that just means S-Unit is even more confused than they were before…_

**Chapter 10 -Unexpected Consequences**

"Despicable! Unfounded! Immature! Completely unbecoming to an agent with your experience and history! To think I..." This was minute 15 of Blunt's tirade. I had to be proud of my accomplishment, I had finally gotten Blunt to snap and show some emotion for once. It was a moment to savor.

The whole troop was still standing behind me a few feet back, unwilling to enter the sphere around me, in fear that some of Blunt's hostility would be shot in their direction should they stand too close. To tell the truth, I had been a little underhanded. But, I couldn't resist relishing the moment. It's not every day someone was able to pull a fast one on Blunt. I had done the impossible. Even our greeting from the get-go had been just another thorn in Blunt's side.

_20 minutes ago..._

I entered the camp's base with Ben, his lackeys, and S-Unit close on my heels. Now that we were close to reaching our destination, it seemed that Ben preferred I take the lead. He seemed to grow more tense the closer we got to Blunt.

The mood seemed to permeate our surroundings as we walked. I couldn't even hear the wind over the sound of the combat boots trailing behind me. Someone really needed to teach these soldiers how to walk silently.

A few men were scattered across the grounds in various poses of relaxation or exercise, but more than a few curious eyes followed our group silently as we made our way to the main complex. The two guards at the door shifted subtly in what seemed to be relief as we came closer.

I entered the building, and was instantly shown into the sergeant's office by a harassed looking recruit. The only people in the room were Blunt, Jones and the sergeant, who all abruptly stopped their conversation the moment I entered.

"Alan, Tulip, absolutely _swimming_ to see you." I'd gotten in a more snarky mood the longer I had been made to move within the restricted boundaries of my 'keepers'. Everyone in the room was instantly on alert, and glares were leveled all around.

"You would address the heads of MI6 so informally?" The sergeant looked nonplussed and completely out of his element, as if unsure where to turn for direction. My unit suddenly adopted a more stiff posture; having just realized who the 'Blunt' Ben had been referring to really was. It's not every day that you meet someone who outranks you by legions. They probably thought it was some kind of honor. _Fools._

"Oh, I think Alan knows he doesn't deserve much of my _respect_." I paused to enjoy Blunt's outraged expression before turning back to the sergeant. "And as for Tulip...well, I think we lost all formalities the day I tried to kill her, don't you?" I turned to her as if questioning whether she would disagree. I had to admit, being in control like this _was_ rather liberating. The rest of the room's occupants, now more confused than ever, grew even tenser with my last proclamation.

"Really, Alex. That was uncalled for." Jones, ever the voice of reason, obviously felt it was time to bring the room back into their control. "You have a lot of explaining to do young man. Your attempt on my life aside, you really aren't in any position to be rebellious." She had a point. I sighed and sat in a chair resignedly, waiting for the reprimands I knew were coming. It didn't take long...

_Back to present..._

"...You won't be going anywhere without an escort for the duration of your stay here if I have anything to say about it! Agent Daniels is being called off-duty for the task. I hope you realize how foolishly selfish you've been, and if you weren't so damn valuable, I'd personally wring your neck for your unseemly actions and unsavory attitude!" I had been in the middle of a yawn, when Blunt's recourse finally hit me and made the situation suddenly more serious and less amusing. Ben would be staying to fill the role of my personal guard-dog? '_Unexpected consequences,' indeed._

I turned to Ben to gage his reaction to all of this, and saw a resolved expression grace his features as he looked at nothing on the opposite wall. That could have meant anything. Blunt seemed to finally have run out of steam to the present company's utter relief. He was now content to slouch back and glare at me with hate-filled eyes. Jones looked relieved herself at the tirade's end, and took over the proceedings.

"Alex, I'm thoroughly disappointed in your behavior. Alan is right to be upset. Your actions were completely uncalled for. I hope you'll take this time with agent Daniels to re-evaluate where you want to be headed in life, and what will make that path easier, or more difficult." She looked like an admonishing schoolteacher, and her familiar peppermint smell only enhanced the elusion. I sighed heavily once she finished, pausing in thought, and then spoke quietly.

"Jones, you know more than anyone that I have little choice but to do whatever you ask of me; but don't think for one second I'll be making this any easier on either of you." My soft and firm conviction caught her off guard, and I stood and leaned forward, placing my hands of the desk. I looked between her and Blunt, preparing what I knew needed to be said. "I blame myself for her death...more than you can ever imagine. But, don't you think for one second that I don't know both of you are really responsible for everything that's happened to me in the last year, and for the almost the entirety of my life before that. She would still be alive if not for the events that you set in motion long ago. At the heart of everything, both of you are personally responsible...and you know it. That said, I'd think carefully before casting any more stones. _You_ created what I am, and now _you_ have to deal with the consequences." I gave them both one final look of determination, as both now looked as equally shocked as all the others. I stood, and then quietly turned to leave. The others parted as I drew closer.

"Alex, I-"

"No!" I turned back to face Jones again, who looked like she was trying to grasp at something only she could see. Blunt was alternating between anger, and looking like he'd been punched in the stomach. "No." I restated quietly. "You wanted a child easily bent to your will, one who was easy to manipulate and twist to whatever task you saw fit. But, you've _lost_ your leverage. The moment Jack died you lost the only important hold you had on me. As my legal guardians I am restricted on some level, but you no longer have anything to blackmail me with. I no longer have any reason to follow your every command. You don't like it? That's just too damn bad."

I didn't give them a chance to respond as I turned and continued with my exit.

"If you're going to be following me like a lost puppy for the rest of forever, Ben, you might as well start now." I said this over my shoulder without looking towards him to acknowledge whether he was coming or not. I was fairly certain he would.

0000000000000

Everything was swimming in my head like some dream I couldn't fully comprehend that lay just out of my grasp. Cub was becoming more of an anomaly than even _I_ thought possible, and retaining any sense of control or leadership over him seemed even more impossible than it was when he first entered my unit.

It seemed that as soon as I unveiled one part of him, another piece of the puzzle was added and what I had already constructed came crashing down.

Being woken up by a teenager holding a knife to someone's throat was not exactly on par with standard procedure. Waking Boar and Coyote was the only sensible action considering that I wasn't really sure how to diffuse the situation on my own. Cub had been fiercely disturbing in his collected manner, especially considering we now knew he was a mere fifteen years old.

And then, a whole new factor had been added in the form of a man who obviously knew a lot more about Cub than any of us did, even if their greeting was more than a little confusing. First, cautious hostility, and then, puzzling affection? It didn't make a lot of sense, but finally we had someone around who obviously knew a little about our mysterious teenager. He even knew the kids real name: Alex. At least that little bit of information could be gleamed from their conversation. It was surprising that I could remember that at all, given how shocking the sight of Cub actually laughing had been.

The most interesting part in the whole situation was that Cub had obviously caused some kind of trouble for someone in a lot of authority. Cub's comment about only having four guards come to escort him was intimidating as well. _Exactly how much trouble did Cub usually cause?_

Needless to say, the proceeding hike was tense for a number of reasons. The jovial companionship of yesterday was dispensed with in light of unknown trouble. It was an utter relief to see the camp coming up in the distance, even if the tension seemed to automatically jump up a couple of notches now that the our destination was in sight.

I'm not sure if we were expected to accompany Cub and his..._posse_, but I wasn't about to miss this for the world if there was no objection. Cub looked surprisingly calm for someone being brought in under...charges, a little annoyed perhaps, but still undeniably calm.

If I had been surprised before, it was nothing compared to the shock of discovering who the people Cub and that Ben person had been referring to as 'Blunt' and 'Jones' really were. _How on earth did Cub manage to cause trouble on that kind of scale?_ Hearing that Cub had tried to kill the Jones woman was even more unsettling. The more details that came out, the more I was learning that when it came to Cub, there was no end to the surprises.

He looked almost..._bored_. I mean, the kid was being screamed at by the head of one of the most prestigious government agencies in the world and he _looked bored_. It was obvious that he didn't see either of these people as being legitimate threats, and that he had a strong sense of familiarity with them as well.

The only thing that seemed to snap him out of his air of indifference was when that Blunt fellow told him that Ben would be staying to keep watch over Cub for an undisclosed amount of time. I might have sighed at the prospect of another unknown person gracing my team if I hadn't been stuck in my stupor of unbelief.

And then, unbelievably after all of that, Cub gave an ultimatum of his own. _What was this about blackmail? _As powerful as these figures were, it was clear that Cub had true command of the room now. He issued his own warning… and then walked out. Just like that. No admittance of guilt, no defense of his actions, not even a respectful goodbye, just a cold glare and a calm exit.

The rest of us followed as if we were sheep following a shepherd. None of us wanting to be left alone with the man Cub had just snubbed. I couldn't be sure, but something gave me the feeling that we might be seeing the head of MI6 again.

00000000000000000

It had been a long time since I had felt this angry. But then again...Blunt and Jones always seemed to bring that out the worst (and best) in me.

I wasn't too aware of my surroundings as I stormed across the campgrounds. Oh, I knew that Ben was following me a few feet back, but other than that, I didn't really care. _They have some nerve..._

Really, it wasn't _that_ big a deal. I had just wanted to push some of Blunt's buttons. I had succeeded too. I was sure that agents everywhere would be praising my name if they knew...

Well, anyway, their treatment towards me wasn't really anything new. I guess I should have been grateful that MI6 wasn't already clamoring to send me off to the far reaches of the world again on another suicide mission. Then again, assigning a personal babysitter to watch me was not exactly in good form either. Suddenly I almost..._almost_ felt like the whiny teenager I was supposed to be. I had the appalling urge to stomp my foot and rant and rage at the unfair nature of the world in general. They were treating me like a child, so why couldn't I act like one?

It was that thought which started it. One minute I was storming towards S-Unit's hut, and the next I was standing stock-still and laughing at the heavens. I couldn't seem to help it, the laughter just rolled through me as if I had been holding it back all along.

All at once, the absurdity of the whole situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I was constantly being put in life threatening positions by those two without an ounce of adult supervision at all. But, do one small (ok perhaps not _that _small) thing to irritate them, and all of the sudden I was too irresponsible to be left to my own devices. It was absolutely ridiculous! _I swear the world has it in for me_.

And it was that last thought that brought me shockingly back to reality. I sighed, and let the last of my chuckles roll through me. This was my _life. _Since when was it ever easy? Time to do what I always do...accept things for what they are and move on. So I had a personal guard, so what? At least it was someone I knew and trusted. I could have been someone worse, someone like..._Crawley._ I cringed at the prospect. Just what I needed, another blindly devoted MI6 agent watching my every move. At least with Ben, he had met me before getting involved in the organization. That had to count for something.

Once I had finished laughing at how ironic my increasingly difficult life was, I became aware that I had, once again, drawn unwanted attention. Ben had come to a standstill as well, and was looking at me in an almost wary manner, as if I had finally lost my sanity. _He isn't far off_. There were a few other men scattered around the complex giving me strange looks as well. _Oh well, there goes my good reputation..._

Without giving any explanation for my behavior, I once more set off in my previous direction, resuming my stoic expression.

I entered the hut and immediately turned to face Ben. There were definitely some things we needed to get out on the table. He still looked cautious and confused by my earlier behavior.

"Alex, I-"

"I would prefer 'Cub' while we're here, if you don't mind. I'll extend the same courtesy to you as well, Fox." If I was going to maintain even a fraction of anonymity here, his cooperation was vital. My unit had already heard my first name, but that didn't mean they needed help putting all the pieces together.

"Very well." He didn't seem at all surprised by the request. "I know you must be upset by this Cub, but there was nothing I could do to change his mind."

"Upset? No, not really. Surprised? Definitely. But then again, you did warn me didn't you? 'Unexpected consequences', remember?" I gave him a small grin to show I was sincere.

"Al- Cub." He took a step forward tentatively. "Are you alright?"

I couldn't help the raised eyebrow that the question garnered. "Absolutely. Couldn't be better." _And the winner of the self-denial award goes to..._ "Honestly, Fox. It might even be a good idea to have a fellow agent around. Although, I am slightly surprised that you were their first choice in babysitters."

He bristled at that. "They didn't select me; I volunteered." _Ok, now _that's_ surprising_. Ben wasn't usually one to take the easy jobs. He turned away to look anywhere but at me. "I'm still not up for regular duty with my injury and all. Bullet wounds take a long time to recover from." His voice had gotten quiet, before he became more upbeat. "Besides, I figured that if you were in some kind of trouble, then I'd still get a piece of the action, you know? Trouble seems to follow you like a loyal dog. And I would rather have me watching your back than someone else."

_Oh_. My expression softened for a moment. It was always unnerving to hear about the differences between myself and other agents. First day out of the hospital after _my_ bullet wound and I was back on the job. The same didn't seem to apply to the adults in the organization. It was depressing to think how little I actually meant to them. Still, Ben at least had just expressed some concern for me, and that had to mean something. My quiet response was all I could muster. "Always watching my back, aren't you, Fox?" He turned back to protest, and then saw my small smile and his expression cleared. Another second and he responded.

"Well, I need to protect my investment, don't I? What's the point of taking a bullet for someone, if they don't live long enough to reap the benefits?" It was nice to be teased like a normal person, especially by someone who knew me so well. His amused smile soon gave way to confusion. "But, really Cub, what did you do to make Blunt so furious?"

It was my turn to smile and turn away. I walked over to my bed and flopped down on my back. I put my hands under my head, sighed and then answered. "I'm afraid that's one secret I'll be taking to my grave. And, if you know anything about me and secrets; that's saying something." I could tell without looking that Ben wanted to push the issue. I cut him off before he could get too riled up. "Don't worry about it, Fox. Blunt's wrath will cool just as fast as it ignited; and, once it does he'll be embarrassed by his reaction in the first place. Don't give too much thought to it. I don't."

I heard him sigh, before finally walking towards his own temporary mattress and depositing his bag underneath. Wordlessly, he flopped down in a similar position to mine. I guessed this was as good a time as any to ask something I had been curious about myself.

"So, who were those three other goons with you anyway?" I heard him snort at the inquiry.

"_Newbies_." It was obvious from his tone what he thought about _that_. "Blunt seemed really confident that _I_ would be enough to convince you to come in, but he wasn't willing to send me in on my own. You could take the best of them on your worst day and they'd be dead pretzels before they even got a hit on you. Haven't been out long enough to get their hands dirty, if you know what I mean. I would have preferred to get you by myself, but Blunt insisted." He paused and then continued with a smile. "Then again, it was rather convenient to be able to use one of them as a guinea pig. I knew better than to sneak up on you, but they didn't."

"Yes. I'm often underestimated, aren't I?" I could tease Ben about this, because he knew he had also underestimated me at one point. This seemed to be all the opening he needed to change the topic.

"So, how do you like the new unit?" I could tell that he had been wanting to ask this question for awhile. His curiosity seeped into his tone. "You seem to be getting along with them better than you did with any of us the first time around." I thought carefully about my response before answering.

"They're not so bad. Lion is too observant for his own good though. I'd keep my eye on him, if I were you. Blunt would love to sink his claws into that potential if he knew about it. Boar and Eagle could be best friends if they ever met, and Coyote..." This was a tough one. "He's learning. He's a lot like Wolf actually, but he catches on quicker. Strong as an ox, but doesn't always see what's right in front of him until he gets kicked by it." I paused and then raised my voice a little louder. "Of course they all like to listen in on conversations that are none of their business." Ben gave an amused chuckle and sat up to face the members of my unit as they sheepishly walked into the room, but I didn't even turn my head in their direction.

"How did you know we were listening?" Coyote sounded like he was struggling to take in my last comments. _Perhaps my evaluation of them surprised him._

"It's my business to know." I left it at that. I had realized we had unwanted listeners early on in the conversation, but hadn't thought it was important enough to rat them out until now. It had taken Ben a few minutes longer to realize they were there, but his change in topics towards my unit members had been a dead giveaway. They seemed genuinely surprised that we knew they were there, interestingly enough. But then again, they didn't know they were trying to spy on a spy. It was actually rather amusing. I was so often the one trying to eavesdrop on conversations myself, that being on the receiving end was rather ironic.

"Well, guys, I might as well introduce you to my old unit member and fellow comrade since it looks like he's going to be around for awhile. You can call him Fox." I gestured towards Ben without getting up, who proceeded to nod to the others. "This is Lion, our fearless and annoyingly observant leader; Boar, who's as strong as his jokes are weak; and Coyote, whose loyalty is far-reaching even in light of his inaccurate judgments." All three turned to glare in my direction, before Ben's laughter captured their attention.

"Come on, Cub. Play nice." I chuckled before responding.

"This _is_ me playing nice." I finally turned to look at the group. Lion looked sheepish and a little flattered, Boar looked confused, and Coyote looked grouchy. _Not much different than usual really._ However_, _Lion wasn't looking at me.

"You got Cub to laugh." His blatant statement was enough to stop everyone in their tracks, myself included. "I've never even seen him so much as smile before today." My game face was back on in an instant. _How could I be so stupid?_ Letting my guard down was a terrible idea, even for someone like Ben.

Ben looked between the two of us in confusion before a semblance of understanding crept in. "Cub has... good reason not to smile."

"Yes... I know." Lion's quiet admission was enough to spark a reaction from me.

"I'm right here, you know." I could tell that the topic was making me nervous, because my sarcastic side was rearing its ugly head. Most of the time, that served me well; but right now it just seemed...pathetic.

"So, you were in Cub's original unit?" Lion had the grace to look at least slightly cowed. It was a perfectly understandable inquiry, so I chose to be accommodating.

"Yep. Those were the good old days. Didn't seem like it at the time, but still true. Though that's really not the reason we know each other so well." I was being a little _too_ careless lately, and getting too close to discussing issues I didn't want to touch.

"I'm sure it would have been interesting to know Cub back then." Lion was fishing again, and everyone noticed. This time Ben came to my rescue.

"Don't think too much on it, Lion. Cub's already been in your unit longer than he was in ours. I'm sure you know him as well as anyone does by now." There he goes, teasing me again. _No one_ knew me _that_ well. "Let's hope that when Cub leaves this time, that his last day here won't be like his last day with us."

"So sure that he's going to leave?" Lion was on a roll. He cut straight to the heart of the matter. Ben and I exchanged a silent communication before he responded. I tried to communicate my need for him to be careful.

"Cub has a way of always doing what you least expect."

I was laughing on the inside.

**And there you have it! Finally an update for all of you wonderful people! Well, I know some of you are very confused, so here's the answer to some questions:**

_**What Alex did**_**: I know you were hoping to find out, but I've decided no one's ever going to know except Alex, Blunt and Jones. If any of you are Calvin and Hobbs fans (which by the way are the best comics ever!), compare this to the 'noodle incident', which is often talked about but never explained. To be nice though, I'll give you a few examples of what it might have been –1. Alex spilled some embarrassing secrets about Blunt on the agent database. 2. Alex exposed a disturbing truth about a high ranking government official and sent it to the media without consulting MI6, putting Alan in a really bad position. 3. Alex erased his existence and changed a lot of records when he broke into the sergeant's office. 4. (my personal favorite) Alex interfered with Alan's personal life and went on a date with his granddaughter. If none of those suit your fancy, then just use your own imagination. **** It could have been anything.**

_**Updates**_**: I'll be honest; I've kind of lost my inspiration for this story. I still have a lot of ideas of where to take it, but I'm not sure how often I'll be posting because I haven't been in the mood to write lately and that is important for me. Since I have so many people wanting me to continue though, I've come up with an idea. I saw on another authors profile that their fans had submitted artwork to go along with his story. I thought it was really cool to have pictures to go along with the words, but unfortunately, I have no artistic talent myself. So, I decided that if I get at least three people to send me a picture of a scene from this story (it can be any scene from any chapter) I promise I will post the next chapter (which I haven't started yet, but this will make me start). I will also put the artwork on my profile page so that everyone else can see it. It can be any style you want as long as it is from my story. You can even include dialog if you want, just make sure you tell me which chapter the picture belongs with. I'm not sure if any of you will want to do this, or if any of you are artists, but I thought it might be fun to try. I'm not sure if the website allows files like that to be sent over the private messaging system, but I guess we'll find out. If anyone figures out how to do it a better way, let me know.**

**I hope everyone is willing to stick with me on this, in spite of my prolonged updates. Please review!**


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